Gunslinger Alchemist
by yubiko
Summary: Roy Mustang has just been issued the hardest job of his life: turning an adolescent child into a cold blooded murderer. A Gunslinger Girl concept crossover, Please R&R! [manga spoilers, language, death, violence, Parental!Roy and Ed, Royai, Edwin]
1. Introductions and Assignments

THIS FANFICTION IS FAN-MADE AND IS NO WAY ASSOCIATED WITH EITHER ANIME COMPANY IN ANY WAY. ALL COPYRIGHTS GO TO THE RESPECTED OWNERS.

_**Gunslinger Alchemist: A Crossover Fanfiction**_

**"_The boy has a mechanical body, but he is still an adolescent child…"_**

****

Chapter 1: Introductions and Assignments

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A dour face, two pitch black eyes, and thick black bangs covering his forehead, Colonel Roy Mustang sat wearily at his desk. His chin rested tiredly on his hands with his elbows against the edge of the desk, his infamous stance. His back hunched over from his chair, he couldn't care less for his posture, nevertheless wasting the Amestris State Military's precious time, at least for the time being.

He glanced at his desk's right side drawer. Inside it contained a pair of white gloves, his gloves, ordinary looking enough save for a pair of alchemic runes drawn on each glove. The Colonel had worn them in the past at the Flame Alchemist, a Military State Alchemist, chained forever to the military like a dog on a metal leash. State Alchemists were the recruited as ultimate weapons during the Civil War, in other words a full out genocide campaign. There were rumors amongst normal soldiers that the crimson runes on the Colonel's gloves were written in the blood of his victims.

It was a hard war, long and hard. Mustang bit his lip thinking of the burning buildings, the cries of those innocent people, the strong smell of corpses. A whole town destroyed with the snap of a finger whose owner was more than a little afraid of the outcome, proving true as his heart sank with the erupting explosion, echoing across the desert land. There was no turning back after committing such monstrosity…The Colonel snapped awake, blinked and shook his head and smiled. "It's just a memory, right? Just a memory…"

With a sudden creak of an opening door a tall man, possibly in his early thirties, with short jet black hair and rectangular glasses hiding yellow-green eyes, strolled into the room up to the Flame Alchemist unannounced. He had his usual playful smile across his lips, the look of a doting parent, although wearing the dark blue uniform of the Military. The man didn't look it, but he had his share in war. Mustang knew him well. He was Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes and his best friend.

Hughes sauntered up to the Colonel's large office desk, pulling out a photo of a sweet faced one-year-old girl from his pocket. His smile widened as he held the photo at arms lengths toward the Colonel, only a centimeter from his nose. "Roy! Isn't my cutie daughter Elicia getting more adorable by the day!" the Lieutenant Colonel gushed.

"Dammit, Hughes, get that out of my face!" Mustang said angrily pushing the photo away.

"You don't have to be so mad Roy," Hughes shrugged. He kissed the photo and put it safely back in his pocket. "Anyway, there's something I wanted to discuss with you," Hughes said in a serious tone, pushing up his glasses. The Lieutenant Colonel had the ability to go from bragging lovingly about his daughter or wife to discussing Military affairs in a heartbeat. That was one of the things Mustang liked about him. Hughes took the thick important manila folder he was holding underneath his arm and handed it to his higher up.

Mustang gingerly took the folder and looked to it to his surprise, his eyes growing wide. "T-This is a joke, right?" he stammered, unaware his hands were shaking.

Hughes shook his head sadly with a somber expression. "I wish it was, Roy."

"What the hell is the State thinking! How could they do this to me!" the Colonel rubbed his temples, tightening his other fist. He bowed his head. Silence.

"It seems since you are a Colonel, you will be the first to try the new 'movement' out. Others may follow," Hughes said softly.

"Where is he?" Mustang muttered.

"Who?"answered a puzzled Hughes, lifting an eye brow.

"Where is the boy?"

…

"So, this is him?"

"Yes, but you could barely tell from his profile picture."

Mustang sighed and looked outside into a hospital recovery room. A young boy, perhaps only ten or eleven at the most, with short blonde hair and a small stature, was lying motionlessly on a hospital bed. Countless wires and tubes were coming out of an unexplainably missing right arm and left leg wrapped in bandages. His eyes were covered with a cold cloth and a breathing mask was over his face. A creased white blanket was covering only about half his small body, giving off the impression that it was thrown on. His face was extremely pale and there were trances of blood on the sheets. A nurse dressed in white was tending to an odd looking machine and the IV in his hand. If it weren't for the slow and steady rise of his chest as he breathed, it would have looked like he was already dead.

Mustang blinked and looked back at his friend, trances of concern and worry in his eyes. "…What happened to him?" the Colonel asked slowly.

"What happed was what you alchemists call 'equivalent exchange'. He was said to have been testing the forbidden law of alchemy," Hughes said.

"Bringing the dead back to life? Impossible! Who was he doing it on?"

"His mother, who died earlier this year from an unknown fatal disease. Her death left him and his brother heartbroken."

"What happened to his brother?"

"Inspectors say that his boy and soul were 'taken away' and killed during the transmutation. There was only a pile of tattered clothes were his body had been."

"…I see,"

"When the police came to the scene, the boy had passed out and was bleeding to death and a bloody, mangled suit of bronze armor was lying next to him." The Lieutenant Colonel paused. "They say he could have been trying to seal his brother's soul in there after he was 'taken'."

"A soul attachment, huh?" the Colonel said. "So, it failed?" he asked Hughes.

"Yeah, unfortunately." Hughes sighed. "It's really sad. His brother was the only family he had left. His father left him when he was young."

"What happened to his human transmutation? Was it really his-" Mustang started.

Hughes shook his head."They took it back to Central for examination and research. It was already dead when they came to the scene," Hughes answered. More silence between the both of them followed.

"I-I want to help him," Mustang said, putting his right hand against the glass separating him and the crippled child. "Even if I am turning him into a killer, at least maybe could have another chance at life." He paused. "Maybe it's out of pity, maybe it's something else, I don't know, but if he can move again, smile even, at least his pain will lessen." The Colonel grinned and chuckled at his expense. "I sound as if I'm making up excuses to follow such abnormal orders," he laughed.

Hughes smiled at his friend and patted his shoulder. "Heh, don't we all?" he grinned.

"So, what's his name?" Mustang said, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Edward," Hughes said looking back at the file. "Edward Elric."

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I've been thinking of doing this fic for quite a while and finally got a chance to type it. I love Gunslinger Girl and just had to do FMA crossover with it. As you can see, the timing is a little off (Elicia is born a year earlier). And the Elrics' DO live in Resembool, if you're confused (i changed it, sorry). This crossover is more of a concept crossover, than a character crossover. Please review and I might write more later! Thank you very much!


	2. Reminiscence of a Soldier and a Husband

THIS FANFICTION IS FAN-MADE AND IS NO WAY ASSOCIATED WITH EITHER ANIME COMPANY IN ANY WAY. ALL COPYRIGHTS GO TO THE RESPECTED OWNERS.

_**Gunslinger Alchemist: A Crossover Fanfiction**_

**"_The boy has a mechanical body, but he is still an adolescent child…"_**

**_Chapter 2: Reminiscence of a Soldier and a Husband_**

* * *

The Social Welfare Society was founded not too long ago by the Military themselves. This seemingly harmless government organization unknown to most ordinary people, was set up to look like the business of saving innocent lives and covering the costs of the ill from its white building façade to its paperwork stamped with the seal of the Fuehrer himself.

But there was still something about it that gave the soldiers chills down their spines whenever they walked by it to get to the Central Command HQ only three blocks away. Maybe it was the fact that it was secretive to the extreme. The windows had black out curtains down every day and night. Armed guards stood outside the front steps 24/7, making sure no one or nothing got in without identification badges. Many rumors claimed that the Society was planning a rebellion; others said it was an organization of developing and researching technology of war machines. No body in the Command had ever spoken about the working in Society or the kind of work the Society even did. If anybody did work there at all they were probably sworn under oath of silence.

Roy Mustang, the newly transferred co-head officer of the Society was one such person. He paced back and forth in his new office, containing a large mahogany desk and two comfortable velvet visitor chairs. It looked just like his old office in the Eastern Command, only smaller.

The Colonel sighed, collapsing in his desk chair. He had been quietly replaced from his station, dashing his dreams of becoming the Fuehrer one day, though he was still issued to wear his Military uniform inside the building. He was ordered to change into a formal business suit when coming in and out of the Society to attract less attention.

Mustang crossed his legs and leaned back in the chair, causing it to creak a little. He picked up a piece of paper from a high stack on his desk and looked it over impatiently. In a quick motion, he scrawled out his name and put the document in an unmarked folder. The Colonel hated paperwork, plain and simple. Absentmindedly putting an open book on his face to appear "absorbed in his work" he crossed his legs, closed his eyes, and drifted off to a "well deserved" sleep…

_In reality, the Society was in fact a government sponsored corporation, pent up on __technology and the protection of innocent humans. But that was only the ruse. To be __exact, the Society was an anti-terrorist campaign that quietly eliminated the __countries __deadliest criminals, assassins, and bombers. __They were led by_ _adolescent children __hospital __patients, __who were upgraded with steel limbs and brain washing injections. __Aided by a __'handler', __they were turned into perfect machines to handle all the __company's dirty __work…_

"_Are you absolutely sure he'll recover completely? This _is _the first of the prosthetic __operations and he's only a child," Mustang said, quietly sipping at a cup of coffee. _

_He __and Hughes were sitting across from each other at an employee break room. A few __other __men were lounging around at other tables, laughing and chatting with friends. __The __Society was still pretty new and needed more members until it could officially __start __running smoothly. _

_Hughes looked up from his own coffee and gave his friend a long __hard stare __before answering. "Roy, there's always risks in these automail prosthetics __attachments," __he said picking up his cup. "No matter what the chance of failure, you __know they'll do it __anyway." _

_Roy nodded stiffly. _

_The Lieutenant Colonel __shifted his position in __his chair, leaning his head on his hand and stared wistfully at __the other Society workers. _"_We're not going to be really working for quite a while at __the rate these volunteers are __being recruited," he sighed looking back at the Colonel. _

_"That's just fine by me. The __more time we have to goof off the less damn paperwork __the Society hordes me with!" __the Colonel said matter of factly, crossing his arms and __legs. _

_Hughes smiled and shook __his head. "You never change, do you Roy?" he __laughed. "Oh, I almost forgot! I wanted __to show you something," __Hughes said __reaching for his pocket. _

_"Hughes, if this is about __another family photo, I don't want __to look at it." Roy muttered, a vein popping out on his __forehead. _

_"Awww, how'd you __guess?" Hughes said, sounding disappointed. "You know, __maybe you'd understand if __you talked about _your _wife once in a while." _

_Roy sipped his __coffee and didn't reply. _

_"I __could hook you up with a camera if you want." _

_"No thanks," __Mustang said sternly, __looking his friend right in the eye. A short since followed. _

_"So, how __is the little lady? __You never talk about her anymore-" _

_"Riza passed away last week," __Mustang __interrupted flatly, keeping his gaze to the contents of his cup. "The funeral will be in two days."_

_Hughes looked __stunned, __his mouth agape. "Roy, I-I'm so sorry, I had no idea." _

_"She was pregnant with __our __first child. She died giving a premature birth," Mustang interrupted. _

_"And the __baby?" _

"_It died shortly after it was delivered. It was too weak to survive," _

_"I'm so __sorry." _

_"Yeah, __I know…" Mustang gripped his cup tightly, trying desperately to hold __back __the __overwhelming sorrow he had kept inside for so long. _

_"If you need someone to talk to, I'll be __here," __Hughes said, deeply __concerned for his best friend. _

_The Colonel rubbed his eyes __and __gave Hughes one of his __rare genuine smiles. "Thanks."_

…

_Stepping into the seldom visited hospital room, save for the nurses and doctors, the __Colonel grinned at the sleeping boy and closed the door behind him. "Hey Edward, __you __look a lot better than the last time I saw you," he smiled. _

_The boy did indeed __appear __healthier, as the breathing mask was gone and there were more color in his __cheeks. The cold cloth on his forehead had been taken off revealing closed eyes. His face was relaxed as if in the state of a peaceful dream. There __were also metal coverings over his missing limbs where the automail __would be attached __the next week when he was stronger. __The many tubes and wires still ____remained unchanged, __twisted into coils and inserted into the steel. _

_Mustang pulled up __a chair __near the side of the bed __and sat down. Hypothetically speaking, he wasn't __supposed __to be in the room, not to __mention this close to him. The Colonel didn't care. __If he was going to be the boy's 'handler' he should better start now and get to know __him. "I know you've been unconscious since the accident, but you can still hear me, __right?" Mustang__ asked, sounding __foolish. _

_Edward didn't answer. _

_"I heard you lost your __mother and __brother a while back. __I'm sorry. I understand how you must have felt all __too well. In __a __way, we're not so __different." He paused briefly. "I also heard that the __operation will __erase your past __memories," Mustang finished sadly. He looked down at __his hands __which were resting __against his knees. _

_Reaching toward the small boy, he __gently __pushed a stray blonde hair __out of his face and softly caressed his cheek with the __back __of his hand. The once Colonel __of the Eastern Command suddenly felt a strange __stir of __affection for the child and pulled __his hand back, blushing a bit. _

_Mustang stood up __turning __to leave toward the exist door and __opened it a little. Before stepping out, he __looked __back one last time at the child, who had __dared to trespass on god's territory, __disobeying __the flow of the world. The Colonel gave __him a sad smile. "Good luck, __kid…"_

Roy Mustang awoke with a start, sending the book on his forehead flying at the wall. He frantically turned around to look at the clock on the wall behind him. It was 6:52, a few minutes until his shift and the end of the work day was over. He had only been asleep for a half hour at most. "Thank god," he muttered, slamming his head on the desktop in relief.

Straightening himself up in his chair, he picked up a picture frame with the photo of a pretty young woman at a beach scenery. She had long blonde hair and was wearing a sun dress and hat and was smiling warmly at the photographer. "Hello Riza."

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Yah! Chappie numero dos is finally up! (btw, I wrote the last half of this chapter in study hall today.) Please enjoy! I worked really hard to make it perfect! FYI, lettering in indicates a flashback. And the flashback wasn't Roy's dream. As a side note, I regret not using Aru and Riza (gets pounded by fans). I made a last minute decision to kill them off…waaahhh, so saaaaad… Oh, the baby was a girl and her name is Lisa! And about Roy and Hughes's "friendship", they are JUST best friends. Sorry, yaoi fans. Roy relates to Ed because they both lost someone they loved. Ed is like the son he will never have, and he wants to protect Ed so he doesn't have to regret his actions ever again. (how sweet) Ed is like Roy's innocence, but this innocence will be tested the next chapter: A Second Chance To Live, To Laugh, coming soon.


	3. PREVIEW OF CHAPTER 3

This isn't, I repeat, IS NOT the final version. Since Chapter 3 was so long, i am posting this PREVIEW until later. I've got about 3/4 of it done and will finish it soon. Please stay tuned!!

THIS FANFICTION IS FAN-MADE AND IS NO WAY ASSOCIATED WITH EITHER ANIME COMPANY IN ANY WAY. ALL COPYRIGHTS GO TO THE RESPECTED OWNERS.

**_Gunslinger Alchemist: A Crossover Fanfiction_**

**"_The boy has a mechanical body, but he is still an adolescent child…"_**

**_Chapter 3: A Second Chance to Live, to Laugh_**

_

* * *

_

_Mustang himself had witnessed the operation being done from a higher level, his hands __stuffed in his pockets. The boy was lying unconsciously on the table, a myriad of doctors __surrounding his small frame. _

_The single moment the artificial automail nerves had been __connected and the shot blunting his childhood memories was inserted was the first time __the boy had opened his eyes in over a month, even though it was only for less than a __second. And it was also the moment he was no longer considered a human… _

_Glancing up at him after waking up in the recovery room, the Colonel was the first __person Edward had seen after the operation. The Colonel gave him a somewhat stern, __somewhat comforting look. "You're awake, finally. Are you hungry?" he asked rather __flatly. _

_Edward shook head after sitting up against the bed's headboard. "No," he replied, his __gaze turning toward his incomplete automail arm, still constricted with wires and tubes, __which was lying limply on the bed. The boy moved the metal fingers by himself, in sheer __amazement, one after the other. The pain in the movement provoked tears which the boy __quickly wiped away._

"_The arm at least seems to work well after all; that's good," Mustang said. Reaching __into his holster, the Colonel took out the hand gun and put it on the end of the bed. _

_Edward looked up, confused at the action. _

_"My name is Colonel Roy Mustang."_

…

_On the first day of Edward's shooting practice, the eleven-year-old boy was more than a __little nervous, seeing as he had never done anything like it before. _

_It had only been a __week after he had released from the hospital after spending little over six months there __during rehab, yet he was suddenly whisked off to the Society, their true intentions for him __he didn't completely understand._ _He had no idea why his arm and leg were of replaced __with steel equivalents, although he was said to have lost them in an accident years ago. __During the time to get accustom to the automail arm, he was issued a wheelchair to get __around more easily while the leg had its final touches imputed. _

_The rehabilitation process in general had been extremely painful, causing frequent trips __to the hospital and many modifications. Some days he could barely move on account of __the pain and constant fevers. Still, he had been given a room and board and food every __day. _

_He had been told everything that day he woke up in the recovery room by the Colonel, __who had supervised his lessons and been at his side ever since. He had said Edward had __a special job to do: that no other person in the world could do. The people would be nice __to him as long as he did exactly what he was told. Edward trusted his words for the time __being. _

_At the present, the boy stood motionless at the front of the shooting booth holding a small __hand gun at his side. Wearing a simple red t-shirt, sandals and shorts, Edward loaded the __pistol and cocked it at his side. He had been given countless lessons before he was even __allowed to touch it: how to reload it, when and where to aim at the body, etc. He had __diligently memorized all the books and instructions, yet he still felt the presence of __insecurity within his young mind. _

_The Colonel was sitting cross legged on a bench, __wearing a black coat and pants instead of his regular Military uniform. Getting up from __his seat, the instructor briskly walked over to the back of his student. _

"_Now, stand with your legs apart, that's right, and hold the gun out gently," Mustang __instructed, moving the boy's fingers in the right position. Edward did as he was told. _"_Remember to keep your fingers off the trigger until you're ready to shoot. Try aiming __for at least the chest area." Mustang pointed toward the black human shaped metal cut-__out with target circles seven meters away. "It'll be a bit loud and it'll kick, so don't be __scared, okay?"_

"_Yes, sir," Edward nodded obediently. Aiming carefully towards the cut-out, the boy __pulled the trigger releasing a loud bang, making Edward wince. The bullet remarkably __ended up striking right at the edge of the inner most circle in the chest area, the bullet __casing falling to the concrete floor with a clink._

"_Whoa, I can't believe it's your first time to shoot; those prosthetics are something else." __Mustang stared in disbelief, hinting at a sign of praise._

_Edward bit his lip, looking at the mixed message across the Colonel's face. "Did I do __good?" he asked softly._

"_Yeah, you did good," Mustang said with a rare smile, ruffling the boy's shaggy blonde __hair. "You just keep it up, okay?" he finished urgently, regaining his stature._

_The smile on Edward's face slowly grew. He playfully cocked his head and saluted with __his uncovered right steel arm. "Yes sir!"_

…

"_The kid's been getting really good this past year."_

"_Humph."_

"_You sound like you don't care about the well fare your own student."_

_Mustang shot Hughes a glare that was worn down by lack sleep. _

"_What's with you these days? You look like you lost weight." _

_Mustang leaned forward and banged his head against the glass window that overlooked __the Central Command training field courtyard. The Society members had a private __section all to themselves. "Yep," he replied flatly. "I've barely slept these past few __months." He loosed his tie and rubbed the sleep from his eyes._

"_It shows. Paperwork piling up, isn't it?" Hughes asked casually, folding the cuffs of his __coat sleeves. _

_Mustang cringed as he nodded. "THEY'VE REALLY GOT IT IN FOR ME, I'M BEING __WORKED TO DEATH, I SWEAR!!! ROY MUSTANG: AGE 26, DIED OF EXHAUSION __DUE TO PROCRASTINATION!!!" he yelled furiously, throwing up his hands in agony._

"_Dammit, Mustang, calm down!" Hughes yelled over his friend, roughly shaking his __shoulders._

"_Ugh." Mustang limply fell back head first against the window, banging his head again. _"_Oww…" he muttered, straightening up and rubbing his forehead which was red from __the bump. He looked out through the one way glass into the courtyard, watching as a __young twelve-year-old came running in from a back entrance. "But I haven't lost sleep __over just paperwork…"_

_The courtyard was just an empty field of dirt that failed to grow anything besides several __tuffs of grass here and there and a few wilting leafless trees grouped together. It was __mainly used for sparing practices between employees, more recently as a training field __for Edward. _

_A large pile of discarded alchemified dirt weapons, including spears, __throwing knives and guns lay forgotten in the corner, crumbling and worn down by the frequent __usage and many confrontations. There were hints of burn marks and small randomly __scattered ditches where the transmutations were held. Rows of shooting targets were __lined up at the rear and a long tape line drawn at ten meters was marked. _

_Here, Edward __practiced everyday with Mustang, more recently by himself, not knowing the teacher still __critiqued his student through a one way glass window. _

_Running out to a bare spot of dirt wearing his new Military jacket Mustang had given __him the other day, Edward tied back his now long blonde hair in a high ponytail. Taking in a deep __breath he steadily clapped his gloved hands and harshly slammed them on the ground, __releasing a spew of bright blue lightning. _

_The lightning twisted and turned the dirt until it __resembled remarkably like a standard Military issued hand gun, leaving a small circle of __missing dirt on the ground from the transmutation. This was his kind of alchemy, the rare __form without the mandatory requirement of a transmutation circle. After picking up the __gun and closely examining the intricate details, he took a few spare bullets form his __pocket and loaded the gun. He aimed at a small tuff of grass about a meter away and shot __it as a test. It worked perfectly in every respect. _

"_Not bad, eh Black Hayate?" Edward smirked, turning toward the sweet-faced, medium sized, __blank and white dog that had followed him to the field. The dog was frequently seen around __the grounds, following random officials and coming and going as he pleased. Secretly, __Edward envied his freedom. The dog seemed to belong to Mustang, as he was seen __feeding it every day, although he never spoke of it. _

_Black Hayate barked happily and __wagged his tail. Edward knelt down on his knee and smiled warmly, petting the dog's __furry little head. _

"_Good boy! I bet you're hungry, aren't you?" _

_The dog barked as if it understood and __panted. _

_"Okay, watch this!" Ed smirked and clapped his hands again. Releasing the __same blue lightning as before, he once again summoned the powers of alchemy, this time __using a pile of dirt and shaping it into a pile of dog treats. "How's that?" _

_The dog __responded by practically pouncing on top of his chest, knocking him to the ground and __licking his face as a sort of thank you. "Agh! Ah ha ha ha ha! Stop that, it tickles! You're welcome!" the boy __laughed, petting the dog's back... _

_Mustang suddenly slammed his fist into the glass window, causing it to shake and Hughes __to stare at him speechlessly. The Colonel looked up at his student outside who was __playing with Riza's dog. He was laughing, smiling, and chasing it playfully around the __dirt field. _

"_He's so innocent out there, only twelve-years-old," Mustang spoke without warning. He __leaned his head against his arm which was leaning against the window. "He's getting __good, no, really good. He's already taken three missions so far and killed at least ten __people."_

"_I'm not too surprised," Hughes commented. "You've really been beating those lessons __into him." He paused. "He's a good kid."_

"_Yeah." Mustang leaned back and put his hands in his jacket pockets. "What do you think he __must feel like now, not having anyone his age to talk to; to call friend?"_

_Hughes didn't respond._

"_Statistics say that in a matter of years he'll outrank Central's top assassins." _

"_I see."_

"_But it's not the worst I've heard. They say that," Mustang paused, giving a downcast __look to the floor tiling. "the more he understands of his place here, the more he learns __that he's _killing_ people, the chance of suicide increases. Besides that, the automail is __starting to take a toll on his body. He's already beginning to vomit blood due to stress on __the heart. His life will be shortened anyway."_

_Hughes stared out sadly at Edward who by this time had alchemized another gun, a rifle, __and started shooting at the targets with Black Hayate sitting patiently beside him._

"_You have no idea how hard it is to train him! Teaching, nevertheless watching, this little brat to __wield guns, to kill on command without hesitation; its devastating!!"_

"_Roy…"_

"_I hear him at night when I have overtime. He cries out in his sleep, twisting and turning __on his bed, calling out to his mother and brother. But I know that in the morning, he'll __just laugh it off if I confront him about it. He tries to hind this burden of remembering his __past and he's afraid of losing even one of the memories."_

"_Boys his age are, or at least try to act tough; they try to hide their pain from the rest of __the world," Hughes explained carefully._

"_That's what I worry about." Mustang gingerly touched the glass with the very tips of his __fingers. "And here I am, still watching from afar; I couldn't do anything for him after __all."_

"_You just do your job and look after him. When he confronts you about his past and why he's here and doing what he is,_ then_ will be the time to show you really care," he replied calmly with a smile. He took off his glasses and polished them with a handkerchief from his pocket._

_Mustang sighed in a mused tone, staring out the window into space._

"_Just don't do anything "unlawful", okay? It's against policy to show affection." Hughes gripped his friend's shoulder._

_The Colonel blushed a deep crimson. "You pervert!! You're the most likely to show __affection towards others!!"_

"_Which reminds me! Look how much Elicia has grown! What a little lady! Isn't that most __adorable face you've ever seen?"_

"_Get that thing away from me! Besides, that's what you said about the last hundred!"_

_Mustang sped off with Hughes at his heels who was lovingly waving another photo of his __daughter._

* * *

Just so you know, this is NOT a yaoi royed fanfiction, but you can interpet it that way. This is more of a father/son relationship with Roy watching over Ed which i think is really strong. To tell you the truth, I looked down upon (hated, really) royed but now I'm a bit more tolerant of it. Odd, yes I am. (laughs) Since I knew absolutely nada bout guns I did a little research on them. When looking up Edo's gun I tried to look for a germen WWI-WWII hand gun and rifle because of the time period. God Bless you wikipedia...Anyways, Ed's guns are Walther PPK(hand gun) and MP28.II (rifle) which has an automatic and single setting. 


	4. PREVIEW OF CHAPTER 3 PART 2

_I am once again posting up a preview for chapter 3. I 'm so sorry, I've been really working on it hard but school work is really blowing a hole in my schedule. When I am finally finished with the complete chapter I will delete these two previews so please hold on any reviews until the real chapter is up. Thank you for your patience!!!_

THIS FANFICTION IS FAN-MADE AND IS NO WAY ASSOCIATED WITH EITHER ANIME COMPANY IN ANY WAY. ALL COPYRIGHTS GO TO THE RESPECTED OWNERS.

_**Gunslinger Alchemist: A Crossover Fanfiction**_

"_**The boy has a mechanical body, but he is still an adolescent child…"**_

_**Chapter 3: A Second Chance to Live, to Laugh**_

* * *

Edward sat up straight in his arm chair with his fists resting on lap, smoothing out the wrinkles on his pants. Mustang, his handler, was at his desk wearily sorting through paper after blank paper. It took at least twenty minutes, sometimes more, every morning to wait for the Colonel to go through and finish attending to last minute proposals and documents waiting for his signature, since he procrastinated to the point of no return.

One day the whole desk was so covered in books and papers that Edward and Lt. Col. Hughes had to pitch in to hold up the stacks so they wouldn't collapse on either them or the Colonel as he tried desperately to complete them. It took the entire day to sort out everything out, leaving Mustang with a scolding and Edward and Hughes with sore backs.

"Are you almost done yet?" the thirteen-year-old asked in monotone, drumming his prosthetic gloved fingers on the arm of the chair. He sighed loudly, trying to sound bored.

"In a minute Fullmetal, I'm almost done!" Mustang bellowed.

Edward narrowed his eyes at the Colonel and clenched his fist at the mention of his second name. The cruel irony always found a way to piss him off. "That's what you said ten minutes ago," he said.

"You could learn to be a little more patient," growled Mustang who was getting pretty annoyed by the constant complaints.

"Yeah, I probably could," the boy answered sarcastically and yawned. It was only seven o' clock in the morning of another seemingly beautiful autumn day in August. Edward stared out the window at the sun as it slowly receded from the clouds.

When Edward was younger the view of the outside world was forbidden. There had used to be black curtains nailed on every window showing the outdoors, although they had been recently taken down so long as Edward wouldn't go near them with his Military uniform.

Tracing a small circle on the arm of the chair with his right pointer finger he reminisced the day he stepped outside by himself for the first time, after being in the darkness of the hospital walls for so long when he had gained full control of the prosthetics…

_As Mustang swung open the double doors leading outside, the young eleven-year-old felt __the tug of anxiety on his small frame. His automail, hidden under flesh-colored coverings to avoid civilian suspicions, creaked as if understood his fear of what might lie ahead. A blinding light came pouring in into the hallway, namely the sun, something Edward hadn't seen for almost half a year. He had to shield his eyes from the brightness of the sun, Mustang behind him securely gripping his shoulders to balance his footing. _

_Oddly, at the moment, Edward felt a strange yet soothing warmth fill inside of him. A grin beginning to spread on his face, he ran out the doors and down the stone steps as fast as he possibly could. Stopping abruptly on the sidewalk he gawked at the surrounding buildings and the people and cars passing by. He spun around playfully, trying to soak it all in, his now shoulder-length hair hitting his facing. Turning back towards the hospital, he flashed a toothy grin at Mustang who exchanged it with a small smile. _

_Looking up into the sun even though it hurt his eyes, Edward knew he wanted to get to __know this warmth once again after spending so long in darkness. Stretching his arms __toward the light overhead as high as he could while standing on tip-toe, the boy reached __out to the sun, wanting nothing more than to obtain the secrets of happiness from those __heavens above…_

Thinking back on his later actions, Edward frankly felt a bit embarrassed. Had he _really _been that childish and gullible only two years ago? Now that he was older, he knew full well of his place at the Society; he was only their pawn, a tool to be taken out and used at their command without his consent. He also discovered "unintentionally" of his repressed memory long ago during his automail rehab when he listened in on a conversation between Mustang and Hughes. That night was the first time he cried himself to sleep.

It had finally made perfect sense after all those nights dreaming frequently of seeing himself as a young child, playing with others his age, usually a blonde-haired boy and girl. It always took place in a country setting near in a small house on a hill, maybe his own. There was also a recurring sweet faced brown-haired woman, perhaps his mother? Edward had never told anyone his flashback dreams, not even Mustang, afraid of risking even the potential of having it all taken away again from under his nose.

Crossing his legs nonchalantly and leaning his cheek against the back of his left hand, Edward filled in his traced circle with transmutation runes and tapped it lightly. A few blue sparks arose from the chair which shaped a small section of the fabric into a small solid violet colored dove.

He vaguely remembered transmuting these alchemical trinkets such as small birds like this one when he was little. He would always run off after he finished one and show it off proudly to the brown-haired woman. And she would always smile delightfully and tell him how special he was to create such wonderful things which always put a cocky grin on his face. As a matter of fact, sometimes the other blonde-haired boy joined him in his practices of alchemy.

Mustang looked up from his papers, alerted by the light of the alchemy. "Hey! Put my chair back the way it was!!" he yelled pointing an accusing finger at his student.

"Humph." Edward clapped his hands and with his right hand tapped the dove reverting it back into the chair. "Hurry up, will ya?"

_-5 minutes later…-_

"Aha! Finally done!" Mustang yelled, triumphantly slamming his open palms on the now organized desktop.

"It's about time, you slacker," Edward scoffed rudely.

"You know, I've been working my ass off _all night _just so you could go unaccompanied

for the field check for the shooting tomorrow!! YOU BETTER THANK ME!!" Mustang yelled out harshly.

Edward looked speechless for the first time in his short life, his eyes growing wide. "I'm going by myself for the first time? It's about time I got the privilege," he said.

"Technically it's just a stake out for tomorrow's mission, but yeah, pretty much." Mustang said.

"All right! Now I can get rid of you and those annoying mentors from following me around like stalkers everywhere I go!" Edward smiled as he cradled his arms behind his head.

"Don't get too cocky, Ed; this is just a field check." The Colonel glanced up at his pupil and slyly smirked. "You _will _be able to do this, right? This is the first time you'll be completely on your own. No one will come to save if you get in trouble."

"Heh, you think that's gonna really scare me?" the boy laughed, unfazed by his superior's taunts. He confidently crossed his arms and his own infamous smirk crossed his lips. "Hell yeah, I can take care of myself!"

Mustang, for a slight moment, looked surprised but quickly went back to his normal posture and faced the many papers on his desk. "Then let's get started, shall we?" He noisily tapped a stack on the desk and turned his gaze toward the small print. _"This conditioning is frightening." _

…

Brushing off the white specks of dust from his shirt, Edward stared back at his reflection from the full length mirror in his bedroom. He had changed his clothes and was wearing a long-sleeved black shirt, outlined thinly in white, with tight black pants and boots. He adjusted his white gloves and turned around in the attempt to get a look at his backside.

This was one of the outfits he wore when he was "outside", others being various shirts and pants, but for some unknown reason this was his favorite. Edward furiously fumbled with the collar, forcing it to stick up, and fixed his ponytail, pulling back some loose hairs.

His hair had grown quite long those past few years. Touching the mirror lightly with the very tips of his fingers, the boy wondered softly to himself, _"Would this look like the Edward Elric I saw in my dreams at my age?" _He backed away from reflection the moved his arms to his sides. _"No, most likely not."_

A sudden soft knocking was then heard at the door, causing Edward to jump. Regaining his serious façade he called out toward the door over his shoulder, "Come in!"

Mustang opened the door and stepped inside the room carrying his black coat and a traveling truck in his hand.

The room was small yet comfortable with a double bed against the left wall and a full-sized armoire with a mirror in the middle. There was also a wooden desk and chair against the right wall where Edward studied or read in his spare time. There were no windows at all. Surprisingly, it was very tidy and well kept which would be extremely unusual for a normal teenager. Then again Ed wasn't a noraml teen.

"You changed already?" Mustang asked leaning down to look his student up and down with a critical eye as Edward turned to face him. "Don't tell me that you're wering _that _again. Too much black is bad for your image," he teased.

"Shove it," Edward scowled harshly and shot the Colonel an evil glare before turning back to the mirror.

"Just make sure your gloves are secure."

"Yeah, yeah," Edward tugged at his right glove. "I'm not allowed to show off my automail to anyone except my targets. I get it already! You say that before every mission; you're like a broken record."

"Learn some respect for your superiors, why don't you?!" Mustang fumed.

"Sure, I'll keep that in the back of my mind," Edward said sarcastistically, rolling his eyes.

Now it was Mustang's turn to glare angrily at his student, clenching his teeth and trying hard not to raise his fist. After calming down a bit, he took ahold of the trunk in his hand and thrust it into Edward's open arms, knocking the boy offguard.

The thirteen-year-old muttered curses as he set the trunk on the grey-colored carpet and opened it with a look of an unwanted surprise. He turned his head to stare directly at Mustang. "The MP28.II?" Edward asked with a disapproving frown. He shut the trunk with a slam. "How dangerous is going out in public?" he said in an unfriendly tone and a scowl.

"Just in case; in an emergancy," Mustang explained in a sullen expression. Straightning out the coat in his arms, he put it on without a word.

Edward switched his glance back to the case in front of him, shutting it and picking it up with his right hand. _"It's not like the children in Central kill people for a living…"_

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, nothing at all." Edward said in defense, a little too quickly for Mustang's liking. He lifted the trunk up and down several times. "Hiding it in a trunk this time around? Heh, how cliché."

The Colonel folded his arms and narrowed his eyes. "Take it or leave it squirt."

"DON'T SAY SQUIRT!!!"

"Geez…"

…

Mustang parked the car a little past Dale Street and turned toward the backseat where Edward sat with the trunk on his lap. "Meet me right here in this exact spot in exactly three hours time," the Colonel instructed sternly. "I'll be circling around the city until then."

"The target, a political scumbag called Alan Cherkin, who has been secretly embezzling money from the government, will be checking into the Franklin Hotel room 217 second floor. He always goes there before parliamentary sittings to go over documents with his aide, Alexander John. We will reserve the rest of the floor under an assumed name so no one will come up during the mission. Me and a few other men will be in the lobby to make sure that he'll be there. Tomorrow, you will go unseen up to the second floor and eliminate anyone in the perimeter of the room and go back down the way you came. Today you will be observing the back entrance for your escape."

"Yeah, yeah," Edward responded in a bored tone. The boy opened the car's side door and stepped out, the trunk's handle still held securely in his hand.

"Here," Mustang took out his wallet and handed the boy two one thousand sen bills. "There's some money for lunch, or a souvenir or something. Have fun."

Edward looked over at the bills before stuffing them in his pants pocket. He glanced up at his handler, who had facing back to the road behind, getting ready to turn the car around. It was an uncommon occasion to be sight seeing in Central, but the Colonel being kind was an even greater rarity.

The boy nodded solemnly and saluted, catching Mustang's eye just before the car sped away leaving Edward on the sidewalk the concealed machine gun in his small hand. "Yes, sir."


	5. A Second Chance to Live, to Laugh

THIS FANFICTION IS FAN-MADE AND IS NO WAY ASSOCIATED WITH EITHER ANIME COMPANY IN ANY WAY. ALL COPYRIGHTS GO TO THE RESPECTED OWNERS.

_**Gunslinger Alchemist: A Crossover Fanfiction**_

"_**The boy has a mechanical body, but he is still an adolescent child…"**_

_**Chapter 3: A Second Chance to Live, to Laugh**_

Special Thanks to: OrangeKittyAlchemist-Sony, windelf, mooneasterbunny, Amy, Sora Kusanagi, Merkitten, I Know Your Name, and ursweetheartless. Much Love!!

A/N: The BGM for the end of the second to last scene is Lilium(Saint Version) from Elfen Lied

* * *

"You've grown a little bit since the last time at your checkup, Ed."

"Really, you think so?"

"Yeah, but you're still a bean."

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A HALF-PINT MIDGET?!!!"

Mustang chuckled and playfully ruffled Edward's hair.

"Colonel, you're just really tall! Anyone looks short compared to you!" the boy argued angrily, clenching his fists. Because of his short stature, many people off-hand commented on it, resulting in a sudden outburst from Edward who objected they said something completely different. Ed hated nothing more than being called "short" in any form. And Mustang liked nothing more than to push his student's buttons.

"That doesn't matter. You're thirteen now. Maybe you've skipped your growth spurt!"

"It's coming, you just wait!"

"Yeah, right."

Walking down the halls of the Society, the Colonel was accompanied by a small boy with long blonde hair tied up in a ponytail and sweet golden eyes. In any ordinary case, people would assume the boy was Mustang's son as they were constantly together, almost joined at the hip and they talked so indifferently.

But this was no ordinary boy. He wore the condemned State Military uniform and wasn't as complete as he seemed. His right arm and left leg were of steel components hidden by his clothing sleeves and a pair of simple white gloves. His mind had been wiped clean of all past memories to make room for the future lessons of the ultimate weapon…

_Mustang himself had witnessed the operation being done from a higher level, his hands __stuffed in his pockets. The boy was lying unconsciously on the table, a myriad of doctors __surrounding his small frame. _

_The single moment the artificial automail nerves had been connected and the shot blunting his childhood memories was inserted was the first time the boy had opened his eyes in over a month, even though it was only for less than a second. And it was also the moment he was no longer considered a human._

…

_Glancing up at him after waking up in the recovery room, the Colonel was the first __person Edward had seen after the surgery. The Colonel gave him a somewhat stern, __somewhat comforting look. "You're awake, finally. Are you hungry?" he asked rather __flatly. _

_Edward shook head after struggling to sit up against the bed's headboard. "No," he replied, his gaze turning toward his incomplete automail arm still constricted with wires and tubes and lying limply on the bed. The boy moved the metal fingers by himself, in sheer amazement, one after the other. The pain in the movement provoked a shock of pain up his arm which caused him to wince. _

"_The arm at least seems to work well after all; that's good," Mustang said. Reaching __into his holster, the Colonel took out the hand gun and put it on the end of the bed. _

_Edward looked up, confused at the action. _

"_My name is Colonel Roy Mustang."_

…

_On the first day of Edward's shooting practice, the eleven-year-old boy was more than a __little nervous, seeing as he had never done anything like it before. _

_It had only been a week after he had been released from the hospital after spending little over six months there during rehab, yet he was suddenly whisked off to the Society, their true intentions for him he didn't completely understand._ _He had no idea why his arm and leg were of replaced with steel equivalents, although he was said to have lost them in an accident years ago. During the time to get accustom to the automail arm, he was issued a wheelchair to get around more easily while the leg had its final touches imputed. _

_The rehabilitation process in general at the Society had been extremely painful, causing frequent trips to the hospital and many modifications. Some days he could barely move on account of the pain and constant fevers. Still, he had been given a room and board to himself and good food every day. The people were seemingly kind towards him._

_He had been told everything that day he woke up in the recovery room by the Colonel, who had supervised his lessons and been at his side ever since. He had said Edward had __an important job to do, that no other person in the world could do. The people would be nice to him as long as he did exactly what he was told. Edward trusted his words for the time being. _

_At the present, the boy stood motionless at the front of the shooting booth, a small hand gun occupying his left palm. Wearing a simple red t-shirt, sandals and shorts, Edward loaded the pistol and cocked it at his side. He had been given countless lessons before he was even allowed to touch it: how to reload it, when and where to aim at the body, etc. He had diligently memorized all the books and instructions, yet he still felt the presence of insecurity within his young mind. _

_The Colonel was sitting cross legged on a bench, wearing a black coat and pants instead of his regular Military uniform. Getting up from his seat, the instructor briskly walked over to the back of his student. _

"_Now stand with your legs apart, that's right, and hold the gun out gently," Mustang __instructed, moving the boy's fingers in the right position. Edward did as he was told. _"_Remember to keep your fingers off the trigger until you're ready to shoot. Try aiming __for at least the chest area." Mustang pointed toward the black human shaped metal cut-__out with target circles seven meters away. "It'll be a bit loud and it'll kick, so don't be __scared, okay?"_

"_Yes, sir," Edward nodded obediently. Aiming carefully towards the cut-out, the boy __pulled the trigger releasing a loud bang, making Edward wince from the recoil. The bullet remarkably ended up striking right at the edge of the inner most circle in the chest area, the bullet casing falling to the concrete floor with a clink._

"_Whoa, I can't believe it's your first time to shoot; those prosthetics are something else." __Mustang stared in disbelief, hinting at a sign of praise._

_Edward bit his lip, looking up at the mixed message across the Colonel's face. "Did I do __good?" he asked softly._

"_Yeah, you did good," Mustang said with a rare smile, ruffling the boy's shaggy blonde __hair. "You just keep it up, okay?" he finished urgently, regaining his stature._

_The smile on Edward's face slowly grew. He playfully tilted his head and saluted with __his uncovered right steel arm. "Yes, sir!"_

…

"_The kid's been getting really good this past year."_

"_Humph."_

"_You sound like you don't care about the welfare of your own student."_

_Mustang shot Hughes a glare that was heavily worn down by lack sleep. _

"_What's with you these days? You look like you lost weight." _

_Mustang leaned forward and banged his head against the glass window that overlooked __the Central Command training field courtyard. The Society members had a private __section all to themselves. "Yep," he replied flatly. "I've barely slept these past few __months." He loosed his tie and rubbed the sleep from his eyes._

"_It shows. Paperwork piling up, isn't it?" Hughes asked casually folding the cuffs of his __coat sleeves. _

_Mustang cringed as he nodded. "THEY'VE REALLY GOT IT IN FOR ME!!! I'M BEING __WORKED TO DEATH, I SWEAR!!! ROY MUSTANG: AGE 26, DIED OF EXHAUSION __DUE TO PROCRASTINATION!!!" he yelled furiously, throwing up his hands in agony._

"_Damn it Roy, calm down!" Hughes yelled over his friend, roughly shaking his shoulders._

"_Ugh." Mustang limply fell back head first against the window, banging his head again. _"_Oww…" he muttered, straightening up and rubbing his forehead which was red from __the bump. He looked out through the one way glass into the courtyard watching as a __young twelve-year-old came running in from a back entrance. "But I haven't lost sleep __over just paperwork…"_

_The courtyard was just an empty field of dirt that failed to grow anything besides several __tuffs of grass here and there and a few wilting leafless trees grouped together. It was __mainly used for sparing practices between employees, more recently as a training field __for Edward. _

_A large pile of discarded alchemified dirt weapons including spears, throwing knives, and guns lay forgotten in the corner, crumbling and worn down by the frequent usage and many confrontations. Some were much more elaborate compared to others. There were hints of burn marks and small randomly scattered ditches where the transmutations were held. Rows of shooting targets were lined up at the rear and a long tape line drawn at ten meters was marked. Here Edward practiced everyday with Mustang, more recently by himself, not knowing the teacher still critiqued his student through a one way glass window. _

_Running out to a bare spot of dirt wearing his new Military jacket the Colonel had given __him the other day, Edward tied back his now long blonde hair in a high ponytail. Taking in a deep breath he swiftly clapped his gloved hands and steadily slammed them on the __ground, releasing a spew of bright blue lightning. _

_The lightning twisted and turned the dirt until it resembled remarkably like a standard Military issued hand gun, leaving a small circle of missing dirt on the ground from the transmutation. This was his kind of alchemy, the rare form without the mandatory requirement of a transmutation circle. _

_After picking up the gun and closely examining the intricate details, he took a few spare bullets from his pocket and loaded the magazine. He aimed at a small tuff of grass about a meter away and shot it as a test for accuracy. It worked perfectly in every respect. _

"_Not bad, eh Black Hayate?" Edward smirked, turning toward the sweet-faced, medium sized, blank and white dog that had followed him to the field. The dog was frequently seen around the grounds, following random officials and coming and going as he pleased. Secretly, Edward envied its freedom. The dog seemed to belong to Mustang, as he was seen feeding it every day, although he never spoke of it._

_Black Hayate barked happily and wagged its tail. Edward knelt down on his knee and smiled warmly, petting the dog's furry little head. _"_Good boy! I bet you're hungry, aren't you?" _

_The dog barked as if it understood and panted. _

"_Okay, watch this!" Edward smirked and clapped his hands again. Releasing the same blue lightning as before, he once again summoned the powers of alchemy, this time using a pile of dirt and shaping it into a pile of dog treats. "How's that?" _

_The dog responded by practically pouncing on top of his chest, knocking him to the ground and licking his face as a sort of thank you. "Agh! Ah ha ha ha ha! Stop that, it tickles! You're welcome!" the boy laughed, petting the dog's back… _

_Mustang suddenly slammed his fist into the glass window, causing it to shake and Hughes __to stare at him speechlessly. The Colonel looked up with a listless expression at his student outside who was playing with Riza's dog. He was laughing, smiling, and chasing the small dog playfully around the dirt field. _

"_He's so innocent out there only twelve-years-old," Mustang spoke without warning. He leaned his head against his arm which was leaning against the window. "He's getting good, no really good. He's already taken three missions so far. Took down at least ten people."_

"_I'm not too surprised," Hughes commented. "You've really been beating those lessons __into him." He paused. "He's a good kid."_

"_Yeah." Mustang leaned back and put his hands in his jacket pockets. "What do you think he must feel like now, not having anyone his age to talk to, to call friend?"_

_Hughes didn't respond._

"_Statistics say that in a matter of years he'll outrank Central's top assassins." _

"_I see."_

"_But it's not the worst I've heard. They say that," Mustang paused, giving a downcast __look to the floor titling. "the more he understands of his place here, the more he learns __that he's _killing_ people, the chance of suicide increases. Besides that, the automail is __starting to take a toll on his body. He's already beginning to vomit blood due to stress on __the heart. His life will be shortened anyway because of that damn conditioning."_

_Hughes stared out sadly at Edward who by this time had alchemized another gun, a rifle this time, and started shooting at the targets with Black Hayate sitting patiently beside him._

"_You have no idea how hard it is to train him! Teaching, nevertheless watching this little kid to wield guns, to kill on command without hesitation; it's devastating!! He wouldn't even be doing this if it wasn't for that medication. The damn conditioning's to blame for all this!!!"_

"_Roy…"_

"_I hear him at night when I have overtime in my office. He cries out in his sleep, twisting and turning on his bed, calling out to his mother and brother. But I know that in the morning, he'll just laugh it off if I confront him about it. He tries to hind this burden of remembering his past and he's afraid of losing even one of the memories."_

"_Boys his age are, or at least try to act tough. They try to hind their pain from the rest of __the world," Hughes explained carefully._

"_That's what I worry about." Mustang gingerly touched the glass with the very tips of his __fingers. "And here I am, still watching from afar. I couldn't do anything for him after __all."_

"_You just do your job and look after him. When he confronts you about his past and why __he's here and doing what he is, _then_ will be the time to show you really care," Hughes replied calmly with a smile. He took off his glasses and polished them with a handkerchief from his pocket. _

_Mustang sighed in a mused tone, staring out the window into space._

"_Just don't do anything 'unlawful', okay? It's against company policy to show affection." Hughes gripped his friend's shoulder._

_The Colonel blushed a deep crimson. "You pervert!! You're the one most likely to show affection towards others!!"_

"_Which reminds me! Look how much Elicia has grown! What a little lady! Isn't that most __adorable face you've ever seen?"_

"_Get that thing away from me! Besides, that's what you said about the last hundred!" __Mustang sped off with Hughes, who was lovingly waving another photo of his __daughter, at his heels…_

Edward sat up straight in his arm chair with his fists resting on lap smoothing out the wrinkles on his pants. Mustang his handler was at his desk wearily sorting through paper after blank paper. It took at least twenty minutes, sometimes more, every morning to wait for the Colonel to go through and finish attending to last minute proposals and documents waiting for his signature since he procrastinated to the point of no return.

One day the whole desk was so covered in books and papers that Edward and Lt. Colonel Hughes had to pitch in to hold up the stacks so they wouldn't collapse on either them or the Colonel as he tried desperately to complete them. It took the entire day to sort out everything out leaving Mustang with a scolding and Edward and Hughes with sore backs.

"Are you almost done yet?" the thirteen-year-old asked dully in monotone, drumming his prosthetic gloved fingers on the arm of the chair. He sighed loudly, trying to sound bored.

"In a minute Fullmetal, I'm almost done!" Mustang bellowed.

Edward narrowed his eyes at the Colonel and clenched his fist at the mention of his second name. The cruel irony always found a way to piss him off. "That's what you said ten minutes ago," he said.

"You could learn to be a little more patient," growled Mustang who was getting pretty annoyed by the constant complaints.

"Yeah, I probably could," the teen answered sarcastically and yawned. It was only seven o' clock in the morning of another seemingly beautiful autumn day in August. Edward stared out the small curtained window at the sun as it slowly receded from the clouds.

When Edward was younger the view of the outside world was forbidden. There had used to be black curtains nailed on every window showing the outdoors, although they had been recently taken down so long as Edward wouldn't go near them with his Military uniform.

Tracing a small circle on the arm of the chair with his right pointer finger he reminisced the day he stepped outside by himself for the first time, after being in the darkness of the hospital walls for so long when he had gained full control of the prosthetics…

_As Mustang swung open the double doors leading outside, the young eleven-year-old felt __the tug of anxiety on his small frame. His automail, hidden under flesh-colored coverings to avoid civilian suspicions, creaked as if understood his fear of what might lie ahead. A blinding light came pouring in into the hallway, namely the sun, something Edward hadn't seen for almost half a year. He had to shield his eyes from the brightness of the sun, Mustang behind him securely gripping his shoulders to balance his footing. _

_Oddly, at the moment, Edward felt a strange yet soothing warmth fill inside of him. A grin beginning to spread on his face, he ran out the doors and down the stone steps as fast as he possibly could. Stopping abruptly on the sidewalk he gawked at the surrounding buildings and the people and cars passing by. He spun around playfully, trying to soak it all in, his now shoulder-length hair hitting him in the face. Turning back towards the hospital, he flashed a toothy grin at Mustang who exchanged it with a small smile. _

_Looking up into the sun even though it hurt his eyes, Edward knew he wanted to get to __know this warmth once again after spending so long in darkness. Stretching his arms __toward the light overhead as high as he could while standing on tip-toe, the boy reached __out to the sun, wanting nothing more than to obtain the secrets of happiness from those __heavens above…_

Thinking back on his later actions, Edward frankly felt a bit embarrassed. Had he _really _been that childish and gullible only two years ago? Now that he was older, he knew full well of his place at the Society; he was only their pawn, a tool to be taken out and used at their command without his consent. He also discovered "unintentionally" of his repressed memory long ago during his automail rehab when he listened in on a conversation between Mustang and Hughes. That night was the first time he cried himself to sleep.

It had finally made perfect sense after all those nights frequently dreaming of seeing himself as a young child playing with others his age, usually a blonde-haired boy and girl. It always took place in a country setting near in a small house on a hill, maybe his own. There was also a recurring sweet faced brown-haired woman, perhaps his mother? Edward had never told anyone his flashback dreams, not even Mustang, afraid of risking even the potential of having it all taken away again from under his nose.

Crossing his legs nonchalantly and leaning his cheek against the back of his left hand, Edward filled in his traced circle with transmutation runes and tapped it lightly. A few blue sparks arose from the chair which shaped a small section of the fabric into a small solid violet colored dove.

He vaguely remembered transmuting these alchemical trinkets such as small birds like this one when he was little. He would always run off after he finished one and show it off proudly to the brown-haired woman. And she would always smile delightfully and tell him how special he was to create such wonderful things which would always put a cocky grin on his face. As a matter of fact, sometimes the other blonde-haired boy joined him in his practices of alchemy.

Mustang looked up from his papers, alerted by the light of the alchemy. "Hey! Put my chair back the way it was!!" he yelled pointing an accusing finger at his student.

"Humph." Edward clapped his hands and with his right hand tapped the dove reverting it back into the chair. "Hurry up, will ya?"

_10 minutes later…_

"Aha! Finally done!" Mustang yelled, triumphantly slamming his open palms on the now organized desktop.

"It's about time, you slacker," Edward scoffed rudely.

"You know, I've been working my ass off _all night _just so you could go unaccompanied for the field check for the shooting tomorrow!! YOU BETTER THANK ME!!" Mustang yelled out harshly.

Edward looked speechless for the first time in his short life, his eyes growing wide. "I'm going by myself for the first time? It's about time I got the privilege," he said.

"Technically it's just a stake out for tomorrow's mission, but yeah pretty much." Mustang said.

"All right! Now I can get rid of you and those annoying mentors from following me around like stalkers everywhere I go!" Edward smiled as he cradled his arms behind his head.

"Don't get too cocky Ed; this is just a field check." The Colonel glanced up at his pupil and smirked slyly. "You _will _be able to do this, right? This is the first time you'll be completely on your own. No one will come to save if you get in trouble."

"Heh, you think that's really gonna scare me?" the boy laughed, unfazed by his superior's taunts. He confidently crossed his arms and his own infamous smirk crossed his lips. "Hell yeah, I can take care of myself!"

Mustang for a slight moment looked surprised but quickly went back to his normal posture and faced the many papers on his desk. "Then let's get started with the briefing, shall we?" He noisily tapped a stack on the desk and turned his gaze toward the small print. _"This conditioning is frightening." _

…

Brushing off the white specks of dust from his shirt, Edward stared back at his reflection from the full length mirror in his bedroom. He had changed his clothes and was wearing a long-sleeved black shirt, outlined thinly in white, with tight black pants and boots. He adjusted his white gloves and turned around in the attempt to get a look at his backside.

This was one of the outfits he wore when he was "outside", others being various shirts and pants, but for some unknown reason this was his favorite. Edward furiously fumbled with the collar, forcing it to stick up and fixed his ponytail, pulling back some loose hairs.

His hair had grown quite long those past few years. Touching the mirror lightly with the very tips of his fingers, the boy wondered softly to himself, _"Would this look like the Edward Elric I saw in my dreams at my age?" _He backed away from reflection the moved his arms to his sides. _"No, most likely not."_

A sudden soft knocking was then heard at the door, causing Edward to jump. Regaining his serious façade he called out toward the door over his shoulder. "Come in!"

Mustang opened the door and stepped inside the room carrying his black coat and a traveling truck in his hand.

The room was small yet comfortable with a double bed against the left wall and a full-sized armoire with a mirror in the middle. There was also a wooden desk and chair against the right wall where Edward studied or read in his spare time. There were no windows at all. Surprisingly, it was very tidy and well kept which would be extremely unusual for a normal teenager. Then again Ed wasn't a normal teen.

"You changed already?" Mustang asked leaning down to look his student up and down with a critical eye as Edward turned to face him. "Don't tell me that you're wearing _that _again. Too much black is bad for your image," he teased.

"Shove it," Edward scowled harshly and shot the Colonel an evil glare before turning back to the mirror.

"Just make sure your gloves are secure."

"Yeah, yeah." Edward tugged at his right glove. "I'm not allowed to show off my automail to anyone except my targets. I get it already! You say that before every mission; you're like a broken record."

"Learn some respect for your superiors, why don't you?!" Mustang fumed.

"Sure, I'll keep that in the back of my mind," Edward said sarcastistically, rolling his eyes.

Now it was Mustang's turn to glare angrily at his student, clenching his teeth and trying hard not to raise his fist. After calming down a bit, he took ahold of the trunk in his hand and thrust it into Edward's open arms, knocking the boy offguard.

The thirteen-year-old muttered curses as he set the trunk on the grey-colored carpet and opened it with a look of an unwanted surprise. He turned his head to stare coldly at his handler. "The MP40?" Edward asked with a disapproving frown. He shut the trunk with a slam. "How dangerous is going out in public?" he said in an unfriendly tone and a scowl.

"Just in case in an emergancy," Mustang explained in a sullen expression. Straightning

out the coat in his arms, he put it on without a word.

Edward switched his glance back to the case in front of him, shutting it and picking it up with his right hand. _"It's not like the children in Central kill people for a living…"_

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, nothing at all." Edward said in defense, a little too quickly for Mustang's liking. He lifted the trunk up and down several times. "Hiding it in a trunk this time around? Heh, how cliché."

The Colonel folded his arms and narrowed his eyes. "Take it or leave it squirt."

"DON'T SAY SQUIRT!!!"

"Geez…"

…

Mustang parked the car a little past Dale Street and turned toward the backseat where Edward sat with the trunk on his lap. "Meet me right here in this exact spot in exactly three hours time," the Colonel instructed sternly. "I'll be circling around the city until then."

"The target, a political scumbag called Alan Cherkin who has been secretly embezzling money from the government, will be checking into the Franklin Hotel room 217 second floor. He always goes there before parliamentary sittings to go over documents with his aide, Alexander John. We will reserve the rest of the floor under an assumed name so no one will come up during the mission. A few other men will be in the lobby to make sure that he'll be there and I'll be close to the stairs for your escape. Tomorrow you will go unseen up to the second floor, eliminate anyone in the area of the room, and go back down the way you came. I'll come up with the clean up crew when you're done. Today you will be observing the back entrance for your escape."

"Yeah, yeah," Edward responded in a bored tone. The boy opened the car's side door and stepped out, the trunk's handle still held securely in his hand.

"Here." Mustang took out his wallet and handed the boy two one thousand sen bills. "There's some money for lunch, or a souvenir or something. Have fun."

Edward looked over at the bills before stuffing them in his pants pocket. He glanced up at his handler who had facing back to the road behind, getting ready to turn the car around. It was an uncommon occasion to be sight seeing in Central, but the Colonel being kind was an even greater rarity.

The boy nodded solemnly and saluted, which caught Mustang's eye just before the car sped away leaving Edward on the sidewalk with the concealed machine gun in his small hand. "Yes, sir."

…

It was the perfect day for a stroll in Central as the weather was indeed beautiful and warm and brightly colored leaves lit up the famous city quite nicely. The people were coming and going as usual and the stores quietly hummed with activity. Young children were running down the sidewalks in playful games of tag and cars drove by every once in a while. It was certainly a very nice _normal_ place to grow up.

Edward had greatly missed this city, especially the warm sunny atmosphere. He was never allowed outdoors save for missions and training. That was the way the Society kept such good control on him: by chaining him up like a dog and keeping watch over him at all times.

From Phoenix Road, where the young teen now walked past, the Franklin Hotel was little over seven blocks away. Edward couldn't tell whether Mustang had parked so far away to be less conspicuous, to let him have some more time to himself, or to just be mean. Whatever the reason the boy didn't really care. It was nice to have that choking leash removed every once in a while.

He pattered along aimlessly and exchanged the few nods and "good afternoons" of the passersby. There were always some faces that seemed almost familiar, perhaps wiped from his memory earlier on. Déjà vu was as normal for Edward as talking on the telephone.

Edward hated those painful watery conditioning injections, not that he remembered taking them of course but he could imaged they hurt. He always saw the shots in Dr. Marcoh's bag, kept there just in case. Ed could imagine he would put up a struggle every time his memory needed to be cleared but the youth would never truly know. He couldn't even remember _having _one of the shots, nevertheless hearing that his memory needed to be wiped, yet he knew just the same. Every once in a while he would wake up in the morning feeling dizzy and his stomach in knots. And he would remember nothing of the pervious days whatsoever. Those remembrances of his had quietly been deleted behind his back, all in the name of protecting him from someone or something he shouldn't have seen. He silently lived in fear of what may be forgotten next.

Even now as he slowly walked along the sidewalk, he knew in his heart these visions of the city could be erased the next day. As the he soon came to this realization he stopped and shook his head, forcing his young mind to forget the conditioning at least for the moment. Because possibly one day very soon he would indeed forget everything of life, becoming a true emotionless tool and succumbing back into darkness. Little did he know his entire perspective would shortly be thrown aside as unimportant.

…

After a while of wondering around in the streets, Edward suddenly decided to take a rest stop at a small familiar outdoor café. He pulled up a seat at the shop counter, placing his trunk on the ground beside him.

The café looked almost forgotten as so many people passed by without so much as a glance. Business was slow enough that several employees were sitting at tables and talking noisily, possibly drawing away any potential customers they hoped to have.

A young man about seventeen or eighteen with short shaggy dark hair and wearing an apron and green t-shirt came to the front of the counter and wiped it with a dish rag. He grinned happily as he spotted Edward. "Well if it isn't Edo! How've ya been? I haven't seen ya in ages!" he said leaning over the counter top.

"Hey Brendan, it's been a while. I've just been really busy," Edward replied covering his mouth to muffle a yawn. "You still working here I see?

"Yep, it's all the old man left me," Brendan said. "You're always gone for these long stretches of time and come back at the most random moments." He gave the teen a glum stare. "Too busy to stop by every once in a while to talk to your only friend in Central, huh?" Brendan's expression suddenly lit up and a perverted smile crossed his face. "Oh I get it, you've been _busy_!" he snickered nudging Edward in the arm with his elbow. "You dog, you!"

"Shut up, will you? It's not like that, okay?!" Edward yelled back, blushing softly.

"Heh heh, just kidding!" Brendan said laughing it off. "But seriously man, these city chicks 'round here totally dig your type: cold, moody, mysterious. I'd use it to my advantage if you know what I mean." The young man paused to wave at a couple of teenaged girls passing by.

"Whatever…" Edward turned his expressionless gaze toward the trunk at his side. He clearly knew that he couldn't associate with anyone even if he wanted to. "Hey! Snap out it, you love obsessed freak! I'm a paying customer!" he said banging a fist on the counter.

"'Love obsessed'? You jerk! Besides, ya didn't even order anything yet!"

"I'll take a decaf coffee with extra sugar. And a cinnamon bun."

"You're no fun at all, ya know that?"

"_That_ I can live with."

…

The caffeinated drink and bun sat heavily in Edward's stomach. When he finished the food he wiped his gloved hands on his pants, stood up, and paid for his meal tipping Brendan generously. With the trunk in hand he turned to leave.

The young shop tender waved after him as he left, causing Ed to look back over his shoulder. "Hey! Come back soon!"

Edward nervously laughed and returned a slight wave as he shuffled down the street, knowing full well he might never come by there again.

…

Pausing again to stop at a street sign in the middle of a fork in the road, Ed took out a creased and faded map from his pants pocket. He studied it over as he glanced back at the sign. Because it had been well over a month since the teen had set foot in Central, his sense of direction wasn't at its best.

"Damn it, the stupid map's updated!!" he growled accusingly at the paper. "That or I'm really lost."

Without warning a scream was heard from a nearby alleyway, whose owner Edward could identify as a young female. Not knowing how or why, he started running toward the direction of sound. His "job" required fast action responses in any situation may it friend or foe, a trait that was acquired easily through training and conditioning treatments.

But this wasn't just because his duty to protect the innocent. For a slightest moment he could almost recall that voice. Edward wasn't just risking his own hide to save another life. He was also doing it for his own selfish reasons.

Stopping abruptly in front of the shallow alley, the teen narrowed his eyes to a cold glare at the scene laid out before him. A young girl no older then himself with long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail had been pushed to the ground. She was sobbing and wiping at her eyes fiercely with tight fists. A small group of teenaged drop-out thugs surrounded her, laughing from the back of their throats. From the looks on their smug faces, they were ready for a beating.

Aiming carefully at the target, Ed threw his trunk directly hitting one of the cronies on the back, sending him to the ground face down. The others looking bewildered in surprise as did the girl who had stopped crying to gaze up at her savior. "Hey, you clowns should be in school, not ganging up on little kids!" he proclaimed furiously, tucking his hands in his pants pockets.

The middle goon stepped forward and snickered, nastily cracking his knuckles. He seemed the toughest and oldest of the group, towering at least fifty centimeters over Edward. "So what are you gonna do about it, runt?" he snorted as the other members laughed at the joke.

The comment shot a sharp pang up Edward's nerve. In a single motion he raised his left leg and sharply booted the man in the face which sent him flying backwards, taking another member with him. All the while Ed's hands remained pocketed. The gang again looked flabbergasted for but a moment before urging onto the attack. "C'mon you third-rate, no fourth-rate fools! Are you not tough enough to go up a kid?" Edward laughed stomping a boot on the knocked out leader.

A muscular thug lunged his right fist at Ed aiming for the head, though the teen still looked on with an unwavering confidence. He sighed nonchalantly before grabbing the man's right arm, which was in mid-swing, with his left hand then sharply punched him squarely in the jaw with his right arm. He then swiftly kicked him in the leg, tripping him which brought him in rough contact with the side of the building, knocking him out.

The last member aimed his right arm at Edward's stomach. Ed in turn stepped backwards out of range of the attack then sprang forward and roughly elbowed him with his right arm, sending him crashing into the brick wall and falling to the ground.

Ed brushed his dusty hands and looked at the scattered bodies. Kicking the third thug in the leg, it was made apparent he was barely conscious by his wheezing breaths. "Still awake, huh? I should really stop skipping practice." At that point he remembered the young girl and knelt down on one knee in front of her small frame. "Are you alright, Miss?" he asked politely as if beating the shit out of goons was a normal occurrence.

She was still staring disbelievingly at the boy who had just saved her live with her mouth open a bit. "Th-Thank you so much!" she said wiping the dried tears that stained her sky blue eyes. A large smile crept on her lips revealing a cute sunny face. "You were so amazing back there! How can I ever repay you?"

"It's no big deal really," Edward smirked. "Guys like these talk tough but come down pretty easily when you hit the right points. Believe me, I know." He looked back at the slowly awaking gang members. "We'd better get out of here before they get up and remember a kid kicked their asses." He stood up and extended a hand toward the girl. "Can you stand?"

"Y-Yeah, I think so."

"Good." The girl gripped his hand and Ed pulled her to her feet. "Okay, let's go." He then started running at fast pace out of the alley and into the crowded streets with the girl holding on, stopping only briefly to pick up his trunk. After a while of dodging passersby and cars Edward stopped in another long deserted alleyway and flattened himself against the wall, peering out into the streets. "They're not following us so we should be safe here." He turned back to the girl who still held his hand tight. "So what's your business with those thugs, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Well, I came to Central to track someone down and I accidentally bumped into those guys," the girl shrugged laughing the situation off.

"Who's the person you're trying to find?" Ed asked curiously. "I'm no expert but I can help you look for him."

"He's a very good close friend of mine. I've known him since childhood and haven't seen him in years," she replied with a downcast look.

"Is that so?" Edward sighed. "So Miss, I didn't catch your name back there."

"Oh yes, how rude of me!" the girl giggled and moved a stray hair out of her face. She formally bowed and smiled warmly. "My name is Winry Rockbell…"

Out of nowhere and without warning Edward's chest suddenly started to painfully tighten up. His legs felt weak and his automail grew surprisingly heavy and limp. "Oh shit, not again," he muttered darkly. It was another memory lapse. Leaning his right forearm against the side of the building, he hunched over forwards and tried to keep his bloody coughing under control.

"…and I'm searching for my good friend, _Edward Elric_."

At that, Edward's knees gave way and his golden eyes grew misty and heavy as he lost consciousness. The last thing he remembered before everything went black was the feeling of hitting the pavement and Winry shrieking, rushing to his side.

…

"_Hey, you guys! What are you doing? I thought you said you were making my birthday present!"_

"_We are! It's almost done. It's gonna turn out great!"_

"_C'mon, Al! A big circle on my floor isn't a present!"_

"_The circle's not the present, stupid! This is what we're making it with."_

"_You like dolls, right Winry?"_

Edward awoke, eyes rapidly opening. How long had he been down? Sitting up he looked around an unfamiliar alley with several trash cans and large boxes here and there. He had been lying on the cold ground for awhile, as his back felt gritty with small bits of gravel. Glancing over his shoulder he saw the telltale Franklin Hotel sign down the street.

He gripped his stomach tenderly. The wrenching pain had died down to a mere throb. He took off his glove and flexed the metal joints in the prosthetic fingers. His automail too had reverted back to normal. This was how it always played out when acquired knowledge of his past. Ed didn't know whether to be relieved from the pain or disappointed.

A soft sound of footsteps was suddenly heard coming closer to him, belonging to the girl Winry. "Oh good, you're awake!" she exclaimed happily. "I was getting worried!" Edward turned his gaze to get a clearer look at her. She was wearing a small blue t-shirt with a red jumper on top. On her feet was a pair of plain looking sandals, dusty and worn out.

Winry knelt down in front of Edward and put a hand to his forehead which made him turn a deep shade of red. "You don't feel hot, but you still look kinda pale," she said with a frown. "Do you feel sick?"

"N-No, I'm fine! This is nothing, I swear!!" Edward replied defensively, rambling a bit and waving his hand.

"Alright, if you say so I believe you," Winry sighed. Edward leaned his back against the stone building beside him and his female companion did the same, sitting next to him. "Y'know you look amazingly like my friend, the one I'm searching for I mean."

"Really, I do?" Ed replied feigning surprise.

"Yeah, you could almost be a twin! He had the same hair and eyes and he'd be about your age, but not your height!" she giggled. "Maybe you've heard of him? He was a great alchemist-"

"No," Ed interrupted indefinitely. "I've never heard of either of you until today. I hope your 'Edward' is found soon." When he saw the upset expression on Winry's face he felt a bit taken aback with guilt. "Um, so you said he was an alchemist right? Central is pretty knowledgeable on the registered state alchemists. What was he like?"

The girl leaned over and hugged her legs close to her chest. "We all grew up together in Resembool and our houses weren't too far apart so I got to know him pretty well. He was always trying to improve himself with his alchemy, he and his brother both. Those two were almost inseparable but they had their quarrels." Winry pouted irritably. "He was rude, too focused on goals, and bad mouthed," she continued with a sour look of disapproval.

"R-Really?" Edward laughed nervously.

Winry nodded in agreement. "He was also incredibly short! You should have seen him! And he always yelled out whenever anyone even mentioned it!" she laughed heartily.

"H-He sounds easily agitated, huh?"

"I'll say!" Winry hugged her legs to her chest and smiled sadly. "But he also really sweet and caring towards, especially Al." She squeezed her fragile legs tighter. "Ed was the kind of person that made you feel safe no matter what happened. He was such a precious friend." Burying her face in her crossed arms, she hid her sobs from her companion. "And he and his brother just got up and left one day and never came back. I don't even know if they're still alive, those jerks. I didn't even get to tell him how I really feel."

Edward gingerly rubbed her shoulder in the attempt of comfort. He felt so ashamed. The girl wiped at her cheeks and returned Ed's gesture with a reassuring grin. "Don't worry about me, I won't allow for sadness! I'll find those two no matter what!" She clenched a fist in valor. "And when I do, I'll give them a beating they'll never forget for making me worry!" Winry laughed, causing even Edward to chuckle alongside her.

Her blue eyes suddenly fell upon the boy's _ungloved_ right hand. "Is that steel?" she asked curiously.

Ed's heart skipped a beat as he quickly moved his right arm behind his back while trying to think up a good excuse. "N-No, it's-"

"Please, could I take a look? I'm good with machines. I'll be careful, promise!!"

Edward sighed and reluctantly peeled back his shirt and pant sleeves. What was the harm in showing off a little? Besides, who was she going to tell anyway?

The girl's eyes practically lit up as Winry almost pounced on the mechanical arm. "This is incredible, just extraordinary! The craftsmanship is beautiful, maybe the best I've ever seen!" she chattered happily examining the automail. "First class mechas that double as prostheses, how universal!" Winry grabbed the metal arm and lovingly nuzzled it against her check, making Ed uneasy. He knew he couldn't feel it but still…

"Um, Winry?"

"Yeah?"

"Aren't you… sickened by me?"

"What are you talking about?"

Edward searched hesitantly for the right words. "Isn't it _unnatural _for someone to have metal limbs? You don't even know my name. I'm not the exactly the safest person to be around."

Winry stared at him for a while, stopping the automail inspection. Finally she gave him one of the kindest and honest smiles Edward had ever seen. "It doesn't matter who or what you are on the outside. On the inside you're my friend, right?" She reached out to him, holding Ed in a warm embrace which left the child assassin lost for words.

Edward hugged her back, burying his face in her neck. "Yeah, I'm your friend."

…

Mustang stood outside leaning on the car door, arms folded and wearing a pair of sunglasses that made him appear amazingly shifty on such a humid day. Since he wasn't allowed to adorn his Military uniform to the public eye, the once-Colonel sported his favorite dark blue jacket and pants with a long unbuttoned black pea coat.

He missed the undetected sense of authority he when he wore it amongst civilians, like he was better than everyone else even though he knew better then to fantasize. Now it felt as if he had been stripped of his station and put in a lowly office position, those bastards.

Though attending to the training and overall welfare of the Society's "little test subject" was bad enough, not that Ed was hard to instruct, quite easy in fact. The job took a toll on perception after having to witness the bloodshed and carnage, Mustang himself also having his share of the action. More then one occasion did he need to join his student in the slaughter.

The Colonel clicked open his silver state alchemist's pocket watch to check the time. Edward was late. Strike that, very late, a full half hour in fact._ "I gave him plenty of time. What the hell is he doing?" _

Reaching into the flaps of the coat he revealed a small case of cigarettes taking the longest one in the pack. Mustang hadn't smoked much since Riza passed away. She had always commented that he looked like such a hot-head with that idiotic stick in his mouth. The Flame Alchemist was hot-headed. Oh the irony. At least she hadn't pointed out he was turning into Havoc. _That _was insult.

Before he even had time to light it, Mustang heard the familiar panting of his student running up the sidewalk to the car, the trunk whipping around his left leg. Stopping abruptly in front of the Colonel, head slightly hung and still panting from the run, Edward saluted half-heartedly. "You're late," Mustang scolded taking the cigarette out of his mouth. "I you told exactly three hours. Edward, this isn't like you."

"S-Sorry," Ed responded wearily. He had sprinted so fast he needed a second to catch his breath.

Mustang took off his sunglasses in a smooth motion. "You didn't happen to meet with anybody near the hotel, did you?" he questioned in suspicion.

Edward continued to face downcast at the ground. _"Winry…" _An image of the blonde girl flashed in his mind. He couldn't let anyone know, not even his teacher. "No," he answered solemnly.

The Colonel gave his pupil one of his long serious stares before lifting a hand and placing it on Edward's head. "If you see anyone while you're at work kill them," he instructed coldly.

Edward, though he clenched his fists until it hurt, silently nodded and bowed his head. "Yes, sir."

…

Though rare, private shootings of two or three people was what Edward preferred rather than the mini massacres with death tolls in the twenty's. If he did a good job he may have more in the future, not that he particularly enjoyed either occasion.

His targets and their accessories were the stereotypically defined "bad guys" by the Society, he himself as a "good guy" smiting a righteous judgment. That's what they had told him at least. Wasn't he such a big help, cleaning up the crime-ridden streets of Central? What a load of bull.

The Society suspected Edward knew what was really going on as much as he did, but decided to keep quiet on the subject just in case. They weren't as oblivious as most of their employees would think which consisted of mostly ex-Military soldiers or weapons specialists, waiting for their time in the lime light and their next paycheck. Ed couldn't blame them. High risk jobs in secret organizations such as these were almost worth it for the hefty cash bonuses. Almost.

Presently gripping his preferred Walther PPK pistol securely in his left hand, Edward descended alone down the deserted Franklin Hotel hallway, second floor corridor. He had changed into another of his "work" clothes: a white long-sleeved shirt with a brown vest and pants accompanied by a long dark coat. The style of dress was popular over seas, yet it had its practical uses. The Colonel had unofficially nicknamed the outfit his "mature look", much to Ed's embarrassment.

It was quiet going on his way to 215, the only real occupied room. The only sound he heard was of his own footsteps and the noise of conversation at the end of the hall. It was going to get a lot quieter in a matter of minutes.

Planting himself in front of the door, Edward cocked the pistol hammer and touched the small microphone in his right ear. Static crackled from the other end. Mustang was on the end of the transmission.

"Okay Fullmetal, as you know I'm near the stairwell. Hughes has affirmed our target and his subordinate checking into the room from the lobby. They should be the only ones up there. Can you hear them?"

Edward pressed his ear against the door. "Yeah, they're saying something about a government scandal or something," he answered in a whispered tone into the attached microphone.

"Good. Try going for a clean shot this time. Only use your armblade if necessary."

"Understood." Static resumed the transmission and the briefing was complete. Taking a deep breath, Edward knocked on the door. "Room service," he called out, disguising his true intentions.

The sound of shuffling papers and feet was heard coming from the other side and a brunette gentleman answered the door. Swiftly and without explanation, Edward brought up his left arm accurately shooting the man in the middle of the forehead. A spurt of blood launching from the bullet hole, the man fell over backwards twitching violently in jerky spasms. It was only the accessory, John.

Ed shut the door behind him and walked silently into the room, stepping over the newly formed red pool that was staining the tan carpet. Raising his gun out, both arms out stretched, he checked the surrounding area. It was a nice, expensive set up: a large fancy living room on one side facing the door and two separate bedrooms with a closet and bathroom on the other.

A creak of an opening wooden door from the bedroom revealed a tall skinny man with blonde hair. Almost by instinct, Edward turned on heel toward the indication of the sound and unleashed a spray of bullet shots at the man. Bloody bursts erupted on the man's white buttoned shirt and with a groan he fell against the wall. Edward padded closer to the bullet-ridden embezzler, kneeling down to admire his work. Cherkin was still alive. "P-Please help me!" he gasped toward the youth, grunting through blood bubbles. "I-I'll change my ways, I swear!"

Any traces of mercy had dissolved from Edward's golden eyes, matching his cold expressionless face. He rammed the barrel of the pistol roughly against Cherkin's swollen head. "The scum of society should die like scum." With the pull of the trigger thick gushes of darkened crimson blood exploded onto the surrounding walls, a few splattering onto the front of Edward's coat and cheek. The target had finally been terminated.

Straightening up and regaining his posture, Ed again reached for the headphone. "Mission accomplished," he said in to the microphone.

The Colonel responded on the other line. "Good job. I'll meet up…wait, what did you say?" The signal paused and an unknown mutter was heard, as if Mustang had been interrupted with urgent complication. "Are you out of your fucking mind?!" Edward fidgeted at the heightening anger in his handler's voice. "How the how the hell could you have let someone else up there?!..." In a single shock of static, the transmission abruptly ended, provoking unanswered questions to the young teen. _Someone uninvited was on this floor with him? _He fled from the blood drenched room, thrusting open the entrance door and scrambling out into the hallway.

It turned out that someone really was there. Someone who wasn't supposed to be there, someone he shouldn't have even met. Edward knew who it was the instant he hastily stopped in his tracks and saw her small skinny frame, his eyes widening with tremors of sudden fear. She stood but two meters away. He managed to softly call out her name, almost a whisper. "…Winry?"

The girl giggled, her eyes sparkling. "I've finally found you! I'm so glad I got to see you again!" she smiled warmly.

Edward hastily moved his pistol out of sight behind his back, concentrating on getting out of the situation. "What are doing here?" he said shaking slightly.

Winry squeezed the small bundle she was carrying in her arms. "Since you left so quickly, I asked several people around the area we were in and they said they saw you around the hotel. I've been searching for a few hours and finally came up to the second floor. And here you are!"

"_So that's how she got by the clean up crew,"_ Ed thought. His eyes fell upon the small bundle. His eyes bulged at its presence. It was a painfully familiar baby doll. He motioned toward it. "What's that?"

The girl held it out for Edward to see. It was seemed to be handcrafted with its tangled red hair and cloth body. "This was a present that Edward and Alphonse made for me on my sixth birthday. It was their first alchemy transmutation and one of my fondest memories, even though I was frightened at first by the alchemy." She hugged the doll close to her chest. "I know it's kind of silly for a teenager to be carrying around a children's doll, but I can't just go and forget about the past."

Edward suddenly cringed and stiffened, his handler's words ringing loudly in his mind._ "If you see anyone while you're at work, kill them."_ Tightening his grip on the pistol, he bowed his head, blonde bangs hiding his face. "You know, Winry…" he started. "There was a reason why I never told you my name."

Winry tilted her head, confused at where this conversation was going.

"My name is, Edward Elric," he said plainly.

The girl's eyes grew wide. "Ed…ward?" she said, almost in shock.

Slowly bringing out the concealed firearm, he pointed the barrel at the motionless girl's heart, tears stinging his eyes and blurring his vision.

"Ed, wh-what are you doing?" Winry stammered, shaking. "This isn't true, is it?"

Edward bit his lip and tried desperately to hide the approaching tears. "Winry," he said finally. "Thank you. I'm so sorry."

…

The Colonel couldn't have been more pissed off if he tried. The end of yesterday's raid had gone horribly, bringing up questions of the reliability of the staff members. Innocent bystanders were under no circumstance to know of the missions but somehow a young girl had managed to get by the security system.

Mustang remembered to incident all too well. When had come to check on Fullmetal, he had fond him on his knees, face in his hands crying over the body of the young girl. She had been shot in the heart, blood splattering over the corpse and an old doll she had been holding at the time. Her haunting baby blue eyes were locked in a blank stare and her mouth was open slightly. Mustang had never seen his student more in pain than at that moment. This wasn't supposed to happen.

He stared down at Edward's sleeping body which was heavily sedated from the intravenous therapy. His automail were showing signs of damage and needed to be prepped for correction surgery as soon as possible.

Dr. Marcoh dressed in a white doctor's coat reached for his stethoscope in his black bag, placing the chestpiece against Edward's heart. "A few of the arm nerves were affected so they need to be replaced," he explained to Mustang. "It's a simple proceed and won't require too much down time." The doctor turned toward his patient's handler. "I heard that there was also a girl involved in the incident."

The Colonel gave the doctor a sideways look and said, "Yeah, there was." He turned away from the bed, staring at the white walls. "There was talk in the board about using her as a cyborg."

"Too bad the bullet wound was fatal, huh?"

"Yeah."

Marcoh took the stethoscope and put it back in his bag. "Heart rate and vitals are stable. Surgery may comence in the morning." He was about to leave the room when he stopped, opening his bag again. "Oh, I almost forgot." The old doctor took out a liquid filled syringe and decaped the rounded protective covering on the needle.

"Wait," Mustang said grabbing Marcoh's arm before he injected the young boy. "Don't use the conditioning just yet. Let him keep his memories a little longer."

The doctor gave him an odd glance, but put the covering back on and shrugged. "Whatever you say, Flame Alchemist."

* * *

Thank you sooo much for your patience!! You're too kind!! (bows) This is my longest chapter yet so of course it took the most time. The new video trailer is up on youtube, so please watch it and rate! The link for it is in my profile. You can also see Ed's gun collection (wink).

One of the hardest parts of this chapter was Hughes's monologue after Mustang tells him about how Edo is keeping his pain a secret. Just deciding what for him to say took at least two days. In the end, I used a similar monologue by him from volume 4 of the manga when he was talking with Winry. Winry…(cries) I can't believe I did that…(gets beaten to death by fans, body is set on fire and thrown into Tokyo Bay) I really do like Winry, she's pretty cool. A reason why it took so long to write was because of the ending…waaaaaahh…Maybe this would be a good time to say that at least one person will die from here on out? Heh heh…Her death serves as one of the final straws of keeping Edward's memories and questions of his past a secret from Mustang. This leads to a confrontation conflicting with some very bad timing in chapter 4: A Broken Heart in My Hands, The Truth Revealed. Halfway through this chapter, I noticed that Giuseppe of GSG looked amazingly like Mustang…The more I write this the more I think about it and vision Mustang as him. (so I guess Edward is Henrietta? XD) Gunslinger Alchemist is really a tribute to some of my favorite animes. There are slight references to not only Fullmetal and Gunslinger but also Noir, Death Note, and Elfen Lied if you look for them. If your wondering about the trunk, it's the same one Ed uses in FMA.

Brendan is an odd one shot character. XD I actually borrowed his name from one of my good friends (although he nothing like my version). He will make an appearance later on in chapter 4 also, if you may call it that…


	6. A Broken Heart, War and Destruction

Heheh, thanks for waiting! From now on, my chapters will be split up into sections with separate titles, Part I, Part II, etc. And the rating had to go up. You'll see why…

THIS FANFICTION IS FAN-MADE AND IS NO WAY ASSOCIATED WITH EITHER ANIME COMPANY IN ANY WAY. ALL COPYRIGHTS GO TO THE RESPECTED OWNERS.

_**Gunslinger Alchemist: A Crossover Fanfiction**_

"_**The boy has a mechanical body, but he is still an adolescent child…"**_

_**Chapter 4: A Broken Heart in my Hands, The Truth Revealed**_

_**I. War and Destruction**_

* * *

The mind of a murderer is a fearful and dark place for any normal person to tread. The ability to go through a state of mind where conscience is meaningless and thoughts of vengeance are put into motion would disgust anyone with sense. Then again there are those cowards among the masses who would in fact want someone dead deep in their hearts. But of course these people would never actually _kill_ another. They need to maintain that sort of façade towards the public eye.

Murderers and assassins take this one step further. They continue a normal routine then wait until the opportunity is at its best. They release all their pent up rage and emotions on their victims only when the time is right.

What is so frightening about those that kill is that they possess the instinct. Their version of reality would be enough to set fear into the bravest of hearts. It is in their nature to be deceitful, not only to others but to themselves.

Possibly the most intriguing feature of the killer is how they react to their handiwork. Does he resent what he's done? Does he enjoy the rush of excitement in his blood? For every one it is a different reason or cause, whether out of sheer pleasure or rage. Maybe the most interesting explanations come from those unexplainable assassins, the innocent looking enough people that quietly lived out their lives among the masses. When asked why they did what they did they simply reply "I don't know".

Edward Elric was a particular case in the matter. Specially trained by the Society in the operation of sub-machine guns, knives, and grenades since childhood, he at fifteen years-of-age had killed at least seventy people over a period of four years. His tactics were brutal, almost cruel, but it was just what those scumbag politicians and bombers deserved. A one way ticket to hell. Edward had never really questioned his superiors at the organization why he was brought up in such ways. What was the point of another shrugged of explanation?

The red-stained meeting room in which he now stood seemed bigger than before the unwelcome redecoration of bloodied furniture and disheveled corpses. The lighting was less than acceptable now that the only source, a circular pendant light, wavered slightly as the bulb flickered on and off. Two window shades had been sharply pulled downward by three of the lifeless bodies lying motionless on the floor.

Shots had been fired not only belonging to the defending grunts. Bullet holes lined the once turquoise walls and a counterpart of bronze casings littered the ground. Two tables and a few chairs were flipped over and water from a fallen, red-shrieked flower vase leaked into the carpeting. It mixed with the red splotches in an unpleasant fashion. The apartment was on the scene of war-torn assassination and destruction, a common sight Edward was used to gazing upon. Now he was one left standing from the battle. At least the easy part was done.

Edward took his not-so-loaded MP40 from floor putting it back in his trunk and deposited his pistol in his right shoulder holster. Slapping his bloodily soaked hands, he created a shock of alchemy that reversed his bladed prosthetic limb to its original state. His clothes as well were soaked in the crimson of the fallen.

The young assassin had quickly gotten used to the limited freedoms on the job. By now he was permitted to attend raids on his own so long as there wasn't back up needed. A good five-man political meeting was all he needed to let off some steam.

A blood-smeared telephone suddenly started to ring from under a knocked over bullet-riddled side table. Edward casually answered the call. He knew who it was already. "Mission accomplished," he droned his over-used line.

"Excellent," the Colonel replied from his office desk back at the Society. "How'd it go?"

Edward lazily wiped a stray splatter from his cheek. "Not bad, actually. Five guys total, few of them had pistols and machetes. It was pretty easy after I started. I also managed to recover some finance documents." He waved a crumpled blue spreadsheet folder in his other hand; despite the fact the Colonel couldn't see it.

"That's good," Mustang paused to write something down as the sound of pen scratches was heard in the background. "You didn't dismember any of them, did you?" he asked in a suspicious undertone.

The student turned toward the lifeless form of a disembodied arm, the bone and muscles clearly visible where it was severed, lying on the floor near his feet. He scratched the back of his head and laughed nervously. "Heheh, just a little bit!"

Mustang sighed wearily over the line. Edward could almost feel the approaching lecture coming on. "Destroying evidence at the scene, erasing memories, and filling out paperwork as part of the clean up crew isn't exactly the easiest job in the world. STOP MAKING IT HARDER THEN IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE!!!"

Edward stretched out his arm with the phone, avoiding possible ear damage from his handler's shouts. He rolled his eyes but gave the overworked Colonel a "Yes, sir, it wouldn't happen again, sir" and an involuntary salute. At that moment he could have sworn Mustang had slammed his head on his office desk. "Sir?" He cringed slightly, preparing himself for the aftershock.

The Colonel wiped a hand down his face in the attempt to soften his inner anger. "It's okay, I'll let it slide _this_ time," he muttered. "Let's just hurry back home."

Edward raised an eyebrow at the comment. Even though the Society was where he lived and slept he would hardly call it home, barely a dormitory. Wow, the Colonel really _wasn't_ getting enough sleep. He shrugged it off and decided to play along for once. "Yeah, let's go home." Hanging up the phone Edward then collapsed onto the sofa, admiring his bloody craftsmanship.

The body whose right arm had been dismembered lay spread out vertically on the sofa next to him in a disturbing position face up. This man had been the third one down, but perhaps the fourth. Edward had lost tract of the order. He had made an annoyingly long struggle when he had been firing the machine gun out of fear after seeing his comrades stricken down in blood like an epidemic. Dodging the bullets was pathetically easy as he missed half his shots completely. The severing of his arm had been a great help in bringing him down.

At least three bullets had been lodged directly into the chest, red dripping from the holes. The man's light gray eyes were still open wide in a permanent stare off into the darkened wall. Edward hated when that happened. It seemed as if the person blaming him for his inhumanity.

The teenager reached over toward the corpse's eyelids and shut them. "Rest is peace, you bastard," he said softly. Leaning back fully into the sofa he stretched his tired limbs and yawned. Edward cradled his head with his arms, letting a wave of sleep overtake him. A killer needs his rest, right?

* * *

Well, that was quite unappetizing XD. Very sorry if I disturbed anyone. Now you now why the rating is up, at least. I go a bit sadistic when doing descriptions like these. XD I was listening to Lacuna Coil's "Angel's Punishment" in an Elfen Lied AMV and it really got me going! I promise the next part will be happier. Hughes' part will be expanded!! Hooray for Super Dad!! XD Also, that last part if you're wondering was based on a quote from the grand master House MD from my favorite episode, No Reason. I love House so much!!


	7. A Broken Heart, Syringe

THIS FANFICTION IS FAN-MADE AND IS NO WAY ASSOCIATED WITH EITHER ANIME COMPANY IN ANY WAY. ALL COPYRIGHTS GO TO THE RESPECTED OWNERS.

**_Gunslinger Alchemist: A Crossover Fanfiction _**

**_"The boy has a mechanical body, but he is still an adolescent child…" _**

**_Chapter 4: A Broken Heart in my Hands, The Truth Revealed _**

**_2. Syringe _**

* * *

The new turn of the century had brought more advances in technological studies than ever before with constant and diligent research, yet none outnumbered the field of medicine. Breakthroughs were spreading around the country like wildfire as universal tactics suddenly became more than just whimsical myth. Painkillers, incurable disease vaccines, even limb prostheses were finally working and succeeding in progression. Problems seemed to vanish as doors of opportunity were thrust open for the entire world to see.

But there were still far too questions hidden within inescapable restrictions that were bound to break one day. Above all other topics was the human conscious, the mind, the very root of the soul that made one person different from the next. How it functioned, why it worked, how every single piece of information was gathered, sorted, and remembered.

Recent tests preformed by Military recruited scientists produced tactics that could control that great force of the mind bending to will of the chosen person in the patient's care, all so known as the handler. Not only the conscious but also the body could be rewritten. Muscle strength, agility, and overall perception would be enhanced accordingly to doses of the medicine. Also, the user's alchemic instinct and abilities would increase tenfold putting a State Alchemist to shame. Any person under the influence of the drug would feel the full affects, no matter what age. The sheer revolution of its discovery was a devastating blow toward cracking the secret of peak human prowess. It produced new possibilities of brain control and memory deconstruction never seen nor heard of before. Taken in the form of intravenous therapy or IV injections, the drug itself was dubbed simply "the conditioning".

That simple innovation caused little to say uproar once word of the new substance reached Military ears. The idea of the perfect soldier, the perfect obedient killing machine fascinated more than it did disgust. The Civil War had seriously depleted the number of living soldiers and needed new recruits as soon as possible.

As the wheels turned, discussion topics turned sour as the talk of using human children as experiments to fight against petty evil reared its head. Ishbalan prisoners had already been subject to forms of laboratory testing, so what was the harm in heightening the progress? It was like killing two birds with one stone. The streets would be kept safe and medical advances could be made with the usage of the drug and other applicants. Board house meetings finally agreed to testing on the condition it was to be kept under absolute secrecy. A new office building in Central, Military expertise officers in charge, and a back up force of at least twenty-five men was laid out for plans. This was how the Social Welfare Society was born.

The first official subjects were two Ishbalan children fresh from the wreckage. They were a boy and girl, possibly related, only about ten to twelve years old, the boy being the elder. Both had lost a limb in the war, perfect for testing the automail prostheses. Unfortunately the girl didn't survive the procedure yet the boy did, prompting the favor of using boys over girls. The unknown boy progressed steadily with the conditioning treatments, raising strength levels, pain intake, and more over alchemy skill. But just before a field assignment had yet to be issued, the boy killed himself in his bedroom with a single shot to the head.

With both experiments deceased in less than seven months, the Society had more trouble than ever coming up with a suitable lab rat. Orphanages were out of the question, as disease spread quickly and better living environments had yet to be created. Lost limbs were fine; the child just had to be pure of illness. The Military higher-ups still stressed the alchemic factor, noting that if the subject's parents could use high level alchemy their problems would be done. Records of past State Alchemists, miracle performers, and revolutionists turned blank until an undated document fell into the Society's hands. The main focus was of the mention of a genius alchemist with two biological offspring, two _young_ _boys_ who lived in the rural area of Resembool with their mother. The opportunity was just too good to pass up and a troop of investigators was sent.

In a sheer stroke of luck, the troop came across the house on a rainy night just as alchemical flashes lit up the windows, not any old newbie practice. This was the work of a protégé. Venturing into the house was a different story. Darkness flooded the rooms with no one to be found until the team came to a foggy, gray, smoke-ridden room. Bookshelves lined the walls and a large complicated transmutation lay drawn on the stone floor. A circle used in human transmutation. It had rebound as deformed beast to say the least was the end result, heaving and growling with an outstretched female human arm. It was a horrible image to comprehend, but even that couldn't compare to what came next.

The first sight of actual color radiated from the thick sea of blood. Violet sparks played around a massive heap of metal armor bearing the crest of a soul attachment. A golden haired boy had been lying protectively over the armor, soaked in his own blood which was fresh from loss of his flesh right arm and left leg. The boy was sobbing bitterly, gripping fiercely onto the supporting pillar of the armor. If not for the pillar, he would have most certainly fallen. The only words to escape his lips in between sobs were "Alphonse, please…come back…"

* * *

Okay, I lied about Super Dad… (gets shot by Riza) I thought I could fit the part in but I was putting it off so much and I wanted to post something. He's coming next, I promise!!This Part gives a more detailed look at the Society and the back story. With the Ishbalan kids, I tried to make them as vague as possible so I wouldn't get attached to them. Waaaahhh…I know it's a bit short, but this will tide you guys over until I type more. Oh, and a shout out and much love to michelaski!! You're awesome!! Sorry the pic didn't load that well.


	8. A Broken Heart, Invitation

THIS FANFICTION IS FAN-MADE AND IS NO WAY ASSOCIATED WITH EITHER ANIME COMPANY IN ANY WAY. ALL COPYRIGHTS GO TO THE RESPECTED OWNERS.

**_Gunslinger Alchemist: A Crossover Fanfiction _**

**_"The boy has a mechanical body, but he is still an adolescent child…" _**

**_Chapter 4: A Broken Heart in my Hands, The Truth Revealed _**

**_3. Invitation_**

* * *

Libraries in a sense were created for people who either had no where to go, nothing to do, or just wanted the pleasure to read without being interrupted. The countless surrounding books gave off a somewhat calm comforting security as if all existing wars were having a temporary cease-fire in order to enjoy the gift of reading.

The Social Welfare Society like any other structured organization had a fairly nice sized library filled to the ceiling with books, medical files, Military records, and alchemical essays. The material was up to date and easy to find making it quite useful to the staff. Only authorized card carrying adult members were even allowed to set foot inside as there was just too much information that could be against them. All members needed to obey the rule except one and he was only fifteen years old.

…

The conditioning experiment Edward Elric had come accustom to his weekly visits to the library. It wasn't as if he was forced to come here; it was the exact opposite, actually. The boy had been coming here ever since he recovered from his automail surgery. He had an odd connection with the simple want to read not even the doctors could fully explain. The need to gain alchemic information had always beckoned him as he willingly processed down the path of their teachings. Ed remembered when he was little he and his brother used indulge in the knowledge from their father's notes, often doing all-nighters to finish paragraphs. Even now as he thumbed through an alchemic text, the teenager still strived toward the truth.

By the time hewas twelve, Edward had read over one-fourth of the reference books despite the sheer volume and thickness. And these references weren't just lengthy. The boy was taking in and perfectly understanding college level texts that most gown-ups wouldn't make heads or tails of. His reading comprehension and mathematical breakdown had surpassed conditioning expectations. He was a certified genius all on his own.

As the young protégé turned the page, he turned his gaze from the heavy-set book to stare fondly at stacks of thick reference around him. Whenever he went to the library, he would collect a large number of books, around fifteen to twenty each time, and sit down at the nearest desk. All articles that he didn't finish in his allotted hour Edward would put back and read the next week or borrow to read in his room. The stacks grew and gave the library staff a hard time.

Edward scribbled down a few notes on a spare sheet of notebook paper, shutting the book and putting it back on the third stack, taking the one next in line. He sighed, brushing back a stray hair. There were two uniformed Society employees talking literally behind his back, shielded by the shelves.

"Hey, what's a kid doing here?" the first less-experienced officer questioned, pointing a finger at Edward.

"Dumb ass, he's that conditioning reject from the lab!" the second said roughly. Judging by his voice he seemed to be in his late thirties.

"No fucking way! I heard rumors about a kid doing the killing job for us, but I didn't know he'd be this young!"

"Yeah, scary isn't it? You can't really imagine anyone like him doing a something as heinous as that. He must really be a _machine_."

Edward slammed the book shut, clenching his teeth as the two men walked away. His right hand balled into a tight fist, unbeknownst to the employees to be artificial. It wasn't uncommon for staff members to gossip about him. The week barely went by before some newbie jackass exclaimed that he was their "little lab rat". Edward usually just ignored it the best he could, keeping his eyes on his own business, but the comparison to him and a machine really shook him up. He sat shaking in disgust outweighing anger, taking several deep breaths to settle himself. His eyes felt remarkably dry and his limbs stiffening. Fixating his gaze to toward the hardwood desk, he muttered under his breath, _"So I'm their machine now, huh?" _

"Um, Mr. Edward sir, are you alright?" A voice of a young woman snapped the blonde out of his thoughts, forcing him to look at her directly. Her name was Sheska and she worked as the Assistant Library Director at the Society. She had a fairly attractive physique with shoulder length brown hair and a pair of thick glasses taking up the majority of the upper half of her face. Despite her looks and being in her early twenties, she was the type of reclusive person that would prefer books rather than human company. This fact alone often goaded her unfortunate nickname, "Bookworm".

"What? Oh, I'm fine, just a little tired," Edward said in reassurance. He picked up a stack of books, handing it off to Sheska. "Could you do me a really big favor and help me put these back? Thanks a lot."

"Huh? Um, yes sir!" The woman struggled with the weigh of the stack, her arms tensing and her glasses sliding down her nose. Her eyes flicked over the title on the cover of the top book. "'Modern Alchemical Renderings of Anatomy'? You've been reading about human transmutation?" Sheska asked a slight hint of worry in her tone. She'd read the book once, but stopped less than half-way through due to the disturbing subject matter. It was the only book she'd ever read that she didn't finish.

Edward shrugged sheepishly. "I'm just interested in the topic, I guess," he answered. "There's something about it that seems so familiar, like I've tried it before." The alchemist flexed his gloved metal joints. "Maybe that's why I got these in the first place…" he trailed off his sentence.

Sheska fidgeted, biting her lip. The subject of alchemy somehow bringing back someone from the dead scared her deeply, especially since a boy as young as Ed was involved with it. There was talk of sacrificing part of your body as payment and that alone was enough to make her sick.

Just as Edward was about to stand up from the desk and grab another stack of books, he suddenly felt the approaching presence of someone he didn't want to deal with. Sighing, he leaned away bracing for impact as the tall figure strode in.

"Yo, Ed! How's it going, Sheska? You'd never guess what Elicia did!"

Edward barely managed to push the Lt. Colonel's photographs out of his face and out of his personal bubble. "What the hell are you doing here, Hughes? I thought you said you were so swamped in your work you couldn't even move?"

"Ah, don't be so uptight! I'm just here on break. Besides, I wanted to get a chance to deliver the cuteness of my daughter around. She called my office this morning, y'know. She said 'Good luck at work, Daddy!' Isn't that just the manifestation of adorableness?!" Hughes swooned, nuzzling the photo.

The blonde rolled his eyes, shifting back into the seat. "Whatever," Ed replied sighing monotonously and gathering the books. His face again bore a pained expression that the Lt. Colonel picked up almost immediately.

"Sheska, why don't you go take those books back? I'll talk to you later." Hughes sent the librarian away as gracefully and gently as possible, giving her a slight push toward the shelves. Then he casually sat down next to Ed at the desk. "Elicia's birthday is tomorrow. She's gonna be five years old!"

"Good for you," Edward narrowed his eyes.

Hughes leaned over grinning ear to ear. "It'd mean a lot to her if an older kid would join us at her party."

A subtle laugh hitched from the back of Edward's throat. "You're joking, right?" he said backing away and giving the Lt. Colonel an odd look.

Hughes slung his left arm around Edward's shoulder. "Why would I do that? It'll be a lot of fun! Here's a picture of the party dress she'll be wearing."

Ed felt that if the Lt. Colonel's grip wasn't going to choke him, his Military uniform collar would. He forcefully shoved the man off him. "I can't just leave the Society to go to a little kid's birthday party! Besides, I don't feel comfortable barging into your house."

"Don't sweat it! The more the merrier!"

"Definitely not! The Colonel's not going to agree to this!"

"The Colonel's not going to agree to what?"

Edward jumped as he frantically turned to stare at his handler who was standing behind him. " Roy! Perfect timing! I was just inviting Ed here to join in Elicia's special day!" Hughes smiled pointing at the objection of his invitation.

"C'mon Colonel, spare me!" Ed pleaded.

Mustang rubbed his chin in thought. "Isn't the party this Sunday? That's your day off, right?" He smirked enjoying the moment. "Alright, I'll allow it. I'll drive you there and pick you up later on."

"You can not to serious?! I'll be the oldest one there with all the kids half my size!"

"Go ahead, Edward, I'm sure it'll be a lot of fun. You'll have a good time with the Hughes family."

"Great! Now that we've got that settled let's talk about the gift you're getting for my daughter! It should be something cute and cuddly, just like her! Maybe a big stuffed animal-"

Edward groaned wearily as he was dragged by the arm out of library with the Colonel snickering in the background.

* * *

This chapter was my most anticipated to do mainly because of Hughes's part. He's so awesome! I also wanted to take a break from the violence and move to a happier plotline. Guns are very scary things and it really makes me sick how a lot of people take them in humorous tones. It hit me really hard when I heard of the Virginia Tech Massacre. I actually thought of stopping the story all together. But don't worry, I'll keep writing for you guys. I also like that I included Sheska, too. She's so funny in the anime. Ed gives her a hard time. XD


	9. A Broken Heart, Moment of Bliss

THIS FANFICTION IS FAN-MADE AND IS NO WAY ASSOCIATED WITH EITHER ANIME COMPANY IN ANY WAY. ALL COPYRIGHTS GO TO THE RESPECTED OWNERS.

_**Gunslinger Alchemist: A Crossover Fanfiction**_

**"_The boy has a mechanical body, but he is still an adolescent child…"_**

**_Chapter 4: A Broken Heart in my Hands, The Truth Revealed_**

**_4. Moment of Bliss_**

* * *

Small bursts of wind lashed on Edward Elric's face. He leaned his head on his mechanical hand, staring out the open front seat car -sleeved shirt, the alchemist had seen better moods contrasting with the sunny afternoon weather.

Roy Mustang drew a short breath from behind the whwindow at the surrounding town passing by. Again adorning his "outside clothes", the same black pants and open black longeel, trying to both focus on the road ahead and his distraught student. "What's with the foul mood, Fullmetal? You're quieter than usual. It's almost like your plotting something."

"It's your damn fault anyway for dragging me into this," Edward scoffed shifting farther toward the window away from his handler. If glares could kill, the Colonel would have surely been stabbed in the head, dismembered, and burned to a crisp. "I'd rather be back at the Society."

"That's you're problem. You're always off by yourself, pushing others away," replied Mustang sternly. "Interacting with people just isn't your strongest suit. It'll be a good experience."

"So what if I like being by myself, big deal." Edward laughed. "It's for experience, huh? Is that why I'm coming?" He tightened the metal joints into a fist. "To give me a good look of how _normal_ people function who don't have to be guarded or injected with controllers?" The teenager yelled out his words, gritting his teeth in pure anger targeted at the Colonel.

A sudden shock ran down Mustang's spine. He slammed on the brakes with a screech on the tires causing Edward to jerk forward from his seat. "Is that why you're so worked up about this? You think it's all just some way of toying with you?!" His tone of voice was desperately trying to stay as calm as possible.

Edward shot him a cool stare before going back to the window, folding his arms. "Those are your words, not mine," he said.

The Colonel didn't know what to say and apparently neither did Edward. Both of them stayed quiet as Mustang started the car back up, driving little less than a kilometer before he finally broke the silence. "That's not the reason."

"Excuse me?" Edward asked.

"Hughes invited you because he didn't want you to feel the way you are now," Mustang replied. He never moved his gaze from the steering wheel.

Edward widened his eyes. "H-How did you-"

"He told me afterwards on that day in the library he never saw you look so lonely." He paused. "He said that maybe being part of family might help."

Before Edward could question farther, the Colonel stopped the car again. "We're here," he said.

Edward, although still a bit confused, opened and stepped out of the car. Turning towards the house in front of which the car was parked, he saw the front door swing open as Hughes waved outside. Around the Lt. Colonel's legs were what seemed like an endless sea of five-year-olds staring at the teenager. Edward gulped, giving his handler a quick double take.

"So, I'll pick you up around three o' clock, okay?" Mustang grinned.

"I fucking hate you, you know that?" Ed leered.

The Colonel waved him off. "Have fun."

…

The Lt. Colonel ushered Edward to the interior of the house which he saw was heavily decorated with colorful balloons and streamers. Plates of food and bowls of fruit punch covered the long dinning room table. Five-year-old children fluttered around the room laughing and playing games like hide and seek or tag. Edward took a quick headcount of the kids. Much to his discomfort, there were at least seven. Their parents had gathered in the back chatting and exchanging quips.

"You're right on time," Hughes grinned warmly patting Edward's shoulder. "Make yourself at home." He then motioned toward a pretty slight built woman with short pale blonde hair carrying a tray of appetizers coming over to them. "Ed, this is my lovely wife Gracia," he introduced giving her a peck on the cheek. "Sweetie, this is Edward Elric. He helps me out at work."

The woman smiled brightly. "Hello, Edward. It's nice to finally meet you. My husband has told me so much about you."

Ed cringed at the thought of the Lt. Colonel talking about him. "Um, nice to meet you too, Mrs. Hughes." He politely gave a slight bow. "Thank you for inviting me."

"Oh, it's no trouble, dear. Welcome to the family," Gracia replied.

Hughes nodded in agreement just as one of the children from the party grabbed a hold of his leg. "Papa! I caught you, you're it!" she squealed. The girl looked even younger then her true age with strawberry blonde hair tied back in two pigtails. She wore a pretty pink dress, the same as the one in the photos Hughes had shown him, Ed noticed.

"Ah, Elicia! What an honor to be chosen by my own beautiful daughter!" The father picked her up snuggling her as she giggled along. He was suddenly reminded of Edward standing in front of him, forgotten. "Elicia, I'd like you to meet my friend, Edward. You want to say 'hello' to him?" He set her back down on the floor.

"Hi, Big Brother!!" she smiled waved her arms, reaching out to the teenager.

He must have seemed like a giant compared to the small girl. Edward knelt down on one knee to her eye-level. "Hey Elicia, happy birthday! How old are you today?"

"I'm five-years-old!" Elicia proclaimed, proudly thrusting a hand in the air, fingers outstretched to show her age.

Edward blushed a little at this. _"The Lt. Colonel wasn't kidding," _he thought. "Wow, so you're a big girl now?"

"Yep!" she nodded. "I can help Papa and Mama at work now!"

"That's my girl!" Hughes swooned.

Gracia chuckled. "Since we're all here we can start serving the food. You must be hungry." She turned to the dining table and left.

"Can I play with Big Brother after lunch?" Elicia asked her father, grabbing a surprisingly strong grip on Edward's arm.

"Huh?! Um, but I-" Edward stammered. Things were happening too fast.

Hughes grinned. "Sure, if that's okay with you, Ed." He glanced at him waiting for an inevitable approval.

"Uh, o-okay yeah," Edward gave the blonde girl a small smile.

"Yay!!" Without warning Elicia jumped on top of Edward in a hug, knocking him on his back onto the carpeting. Ed groaned slightly before sitting up and noticing that a few other children had joined around him.

"Who's this guy?" a boy pointed.

"_This _is my Big Brother. He's gonna play with me later," Elicia informed him.

"I wanna play, too!"

"No, with me!"

"Not fair, I'm next!"

Elicia giggled and smiled brightly, something she inherited from her mother. "Let's all play together, 'kay Big Brother?"

Edward, hopeless entangled and over his head, responded, "Uh, right." He patted the girl's head fondly, though on the inside all he wanted to do was run.

…

The next half-hour or so was a blur to Ed. Everyone had gathered around the table to sing "Happy Birthday" to Elicia before she blew out her candles. Food and drinks were served to guests and a radio in the background softly played an uplifting version of Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata". Random chatter and jokes had been exchanged with little conflict interfering. The house was once again filled with warmth and laughter.

Presents were then opened by the birthday girl, a shriek of happiness ensured after each one such as a tricycle from her parents, a new jump rope, and coloring book. Ed had seemingly forgotten to bring one, much to Hughes's high expectations though he didn't say anything.

Edward barely participated in the conversations. The Lt. Colonel and Mrs. Hughes, the only people he felt comfortable around, were talking with friends and he didn't feel like joining in child's play. Taking the last sip of his punch, he leaned against the wall in boredom. The jiggling of the empty glass provoked the ice cubes inside, knocking together with a slight clink.

In truth, he hadn't eaten or drank much. He had lost his appetite the moment he set foot in the house. Ed couldn't quite place it, but just being in the presence of a home made him uneasy and out of place. His current feelings were unstable, a mix of apathy or regret. He had lost his sense of belonging a long time ago due to the conditioning. But maybe he still had some humanity left in him. "Hey, Elicia," he called.

The girl turned from what she doing and ran over to Ed, followed by a few of her friends. "Big Brother! Are you finally gonna play with us now?" she asked excitedly.

Edward nodded a calming smile across his lips. "Watch this." He knelt down to the floor, tracing a medium sized circle with a piece of black chalk.

Elicia followed suit getting on her knees in front of the complicated runes being transcribed. "What's that?" another girl piped up, staring at the circle.

"You'll see." In a swift motion, the alchemist brought his hands together forcing the power from his body to the floor boards. The alchemical waves radiated traveling in jerky bright sparks.

As the lightning parted, the children gasped as a beautiful looking doll in a white lace dress was solidified and created. The craftsmanship was flawless with intricate details. Edward held them up presenting it to Elicia. "Happy fifth birthday, Elicia," he smiled.

She, along with the other children, clapped her hands in joy. "Amazing, amazing!! How'd you do that?"

"This is called a transmutation circle. It helps me perform alchemy. I can create almost anything," Edward explained.

"So you're like a magician?" a boy asked.

Edward chuckled. "No, well, yeah I guess something close to it," he smirked. _"I rule." _

"Thank you, Big Brother!" the birthday girl accepted the doll, proudly showing it off to her friends.

"What have you got there, Elicia?" Hughes appeared from over his daughter's shoulder.

"Big Brother made it for me! Isn't she pretty?" she handed it off for her father to see.

The Lt. Colonel looked it over, grinning. "Great job!" he praised Ed, giving Elicia back the doll. "You've really been improving!"

"Thanks, I've practiced a lot," Edward said.

"It's nice to have such good friends, isn't it?" Hughes turned to his daughter. "Did you thank him for your present?"

"Uh huh!" Elicia embraced Ed in a close hug, which for him was painfully familiar. "You're my friend!"

_"…you're my friend, right?" _

_"Look, Brother! I'm been getting a lot better!" _

_"Y'know you look amazingly like my friend…" _

_"Brother, are you sure we should be doing this?" _

_"…I didn't even get to tell him how I really feel." _

"No…wait…"

_"…The day that I can see him again will be the day I can fully let it go." _

_"ED!! BROTHER PLEASE HELP ME!!!" _

_"Ed, wh-what are you doing? This isn't true, is it?" _

"STOP!!!"

"Ed!! Snap out of it!!"

Edward slowly loosed the grip of his hands on his head as the throbbing migraine quitted down. He had doubled over forwards, still kneeling on the ground as Hughes had grabbed a hold of his shoulder shaking him, bringing him back from cruel forgotten memories. Sweat beaded from his face as tremors silently stopped wracking through his body. His screams had left the party-goers silent, unsure of how to respond. All anybody could do was stare wide-eyed and curious of what got this boy so upset. Ed staggered to pull himself upwards to sit, but proved weak and instead ended up needing Hughes's help.

Mrs. Hughes gave him a glass of water. "Are you alright, Edward? Do you want to lie down for a bit?" she asked him, very concerned.

Ed took a gulp of the water and then shook his head wearily without saying a word. He held his stomach tightly, breathing heavily, almost as if he was going to be sick.

The Lt. Colonel frowned. "Should I call the Colonel to pick you up early?"

"No, please," Ed desperately grabbed Hughes's jacket sleeve. "I'm fine. Thank you for worrying about me."

Elisia, with traces of tears, in her eyes bit her lip. Edward had pushed her away from her hug before doubling over, sending her falling to the ground. "Big Brother, why were you crying? Was it something I did?" she approached him cautiously.

Ed gave her a tiny smile. "It's complicated," he said simply. "I'm sorry I scared you. Do you still want to play with me?"

The girl perked up instantly, gripping his gloved right hand. "Yes!"

…

At three o' clock sharp, Mustang arrived at Hughes's driveway. He saw Edward coming down the porch steps, downcast. Ed thanked the Lt. Colonel one last time at the door then ran to the car, now choosing to sit in the back seat rather than the usual front. "How'd it turn out?" Mustang asked his student as he drove back to the Society. "Better than you thought?"

Edward didn't answer him in more than a glance. His facial expression wasn't angered like before but still bore the pain for another reason entirely. He didn't say a word until the Colonel stopped in front of the corporation building he knew and made his home. Getting out quickly, he walked briskly ahead of his handler, dodging several employees.

Mustang followed him, keeping a close eye on him as he led him to the door to his room. Ed thrust open the door, shutting and locking it in Mustang's face which left him uneasy about getting the cold shoulder. Just before the Colonel could sigh and leave with the rest of his dignity attached, Ed opened the door a jar, peaking out through the slit and answered his question with a sad smile. "It was nice."

* * *

Awww! The cuteness! It burns!! Before I wrote this, I took the liberty of watching the anime episodes and manga chapters with Elicia in them. Kawaii!! Ed isn't very good with children, but he tries his best. XD Ed finally gets to do something fun and he has to be reminded of Winry and Al on top of that. Wow, that really sucks. Oh, by the way, you know those Ishbalan kids whom I said I wasn't supposed to get attached to? I did anyway. XD I might write it up later, if you're curious. My freshman year at high school is winding down finally so I have more time to write/type. Algebra final is on Thursday. Wish me luck! XD

Please excuse me if the ending is a little dry. When I finished it I was looking up Death Note AMVs and came across a HUGE spoiler I shouldn't have seen, a death of one of my favorite male leads. I got kind of depressed, I almost cried. And so the quality might have suffered, just a bit. Avatar: The Last Airbender fans might notice the similarity of Edward's quote at the end to Zuko's after Zuko went on that date with Jin. So cute!! Love this couple!! AangxToph is love, too!!


	10. A Broken Heart, Nightmare

THIS FANFICTION IS FAN-MADE AND IS NO WAY ASSOCIATED WITH EITHER ANIME COMPANY IN ANY WAY. ALL COPYRIGHTS GO TO THE RESPECTED OWNERS.

_**Gunslinger Alchemist: A Crossover Fanfiction**_

**"_The boy has a mechanical body, but he is still an adolescent child…"_**

**_Chapter 4: A Broken Heart in my Hands, The Truth Revealed_**

**_5. Nightmare_**

* * *

_T__he first thing Edward saw when he slowly opened his eyes was black. Everywhere he looked was a never ending void that seemed to stretch on forever. What surprised him most was he could see himself amidst the thick black, the only known source of light being that which radiated from his small body. It was a new indefinite place in his mind, he was dreaming this he knew it, yet it felt so real. He wondered what memories it would show him this time. _

_He ran toward all directions, searching for an exit, his Military boots sloshing on the ground with every step. The ground was firm enough to stand but clearly some kind of thick liquid, though it was difficult to place due to the darkness. _

**_"Here again, are you?"_**_ A voice echoed throughout the abyss, a voice belonging to a young boy. _

_Ed turned around to find an eleven-year-old wearing a maroon t-shirt over a black shirt and khaki shorts sitting on the ground, arms outstretched casually on his folded up right leg. He had striking golden eyes and long blonde bangs enveloping the sides of face, framing the look of childhood innocence. The boy seemed entertained by his elder's confusion, a playful smirk across his lips. _

_There seemed nothing out of the ordinary about him, nothing remarkably noticeable to pick him out from a crowd: no missing limbs or familiar features that Edward might have remembered. So why was he _here_? Ed went for the motion of reaching for his right shoulder holster in the act of sudden defensive, keeping a keen eye on the unknown boy. _"Who are you? What are you doing here?"_ he asked sternly. _

_The boy gave him a withered look, but after a moment began to snicker. He threw his head back as his laugher grew almost in a maniacal state. **"What? You don't know?" **he said in the middle of his fit.** "It's just too funny!" **Edward tensed up stunned as the blonde boy settled down, running his fingers over his forehead. **"I'm sorry; I keep forgetting how little you actually know." **_

_He stood, walking briskly over to Edward with a stride in his step, the smirk unwavering. Gazing up directly into the identical eyes of the alchemist, he grinned mischievously, pointing a finger toward him. **"I'm **_**YOU." **

_The dark void around the both of them dispersed, as blinding bursts of light puttered from the opening that started as a mere speck. Edward shielded his eyes from the brightness with his arm, yet it proved futile as the white overtook the darkness, flooding into his head a vision of his forgotten and painful past… _

_Two young boys, two close brothers ran together side-by-side in harmony across the grassy field toward their protective loving mother who was hanging out sheets to dry in the sunny weather. They knew they could always rely on her to be there for them and in turn they would do anything to make her happy. _

_"Mother, Mother come look!" They thrust open their waiting palms revealing a matching set of clay horses. The younger brother giggled. "Isn't it great? It's a present for you!" _

_"For me? How sweet!" The brown-haired woman knelt down, accepting the gifts. "How did you get these?" _

_"We transmuted them! We used alchemy!" the older brother answered proudly. The younger boy nodded in agreement. _

_"Oh, my!" she exclaimed, smiling warmly. "Well, thank you very much!" _

_"Brother helped me, though. I can't get just it right," the younger brother sighed, disappointed by his skill. _

_The woman overlooked the mistakes, some more noticeable than others. "I think they're both perfect! After all, my two favorite boys made them." She touched her oldest son's cheek soothingly. "Thank you for helping your brother. It's so nice how you could create such wonderful things, but it's too bad…" _

_Black thundered ravenously across the land, darkening streaks which stained the once blue cloudless sky. The woman's body decomposed and deteriorated, rotted flesh clinging to exposed bloody bones and organs. Long chestnut colored hair which was collected in a loose ponytail over her right shoulder unfurled and transformed to an unruly, greasy black. _

_The hand and arm which held onto the young boy's face remained undisturbed, warmth still emitting from her fingers. Yet, this was no longer a female human; this was a monster. Her crumbling facial structure almost seemed to smirk, drooling fanged teeth open. "…you couldn't save me, too…" _

_Edward gasped, suddenly stumbling back to the darkness. He was lying on the thick liquid ground, hands tightly clenched, holding his head in agony. It hurt so much. He sat up to see his young counterpart standing apart from him and gazing down excitedly, his right hand on his hip and the all-knowing smile still as smug as before. _

**_"How was that? Painful, I hope?" _**_The eleven-year-old chortled cruelly to himself. His widening gold colored eyes glistened with pure hatred, his pupils turning to slits like a snake. The more Edward suffered, the larger the boy's smirk grew. **"It's all **_**YOUR _fault. _YOU _are the one who condemned your own mother to this heinous form." _**

_After the boy spoke, thousands of arms appeared behind his back through the darkness, none of which pocessed human characteristics. They were long, pitch black vectors with small, sharp, grasping fingers. They wrapped around his own arms and chest, alchemically deconstructing his left leg and right arm. Bones and red muscles evaporated, taken by the arms. The boy didn't mind or even bat an eyelash at their arrival. In fact, he seemed to expect and enjoy it. _

_Edward shook at the imagery in front of him. He didn't know what to say to counteract. All he could do was stare transfixed as his young body was taken apart. The arms turned their attention and shot out towards him, cascading around Ed and constricting his limbs and torso, not unlike his counterpart. He couldn't have avoided it; his body refused to move. _

_They felt cold and icy against his skin, those black arms. He could barely breathe or make a sound. All he could hear was the subtle hum, 'You're to blame, you're to blame' buzzing in his ears. _

**_"No, not just Mother…" _**

_Ed whirled around, the arms still covering his body. _"Al-Alphonse? Is that you?"

_His once younger brother snickered at his amazement. **"I tried to stop you Brother, but you just wouldn't listen to reason." **Al's flesh ten-year-old form slowly changed to twisted bronzed armor, his skin now cold rusted metal. **"The toll you paid was only a limb. You got off easy while I gave up my **_**soul_. Then you left me with a body that can't feel warmth, that can't sleep, that can't even cry." _**

_"B-But, I thought…" _

**_"I've been trapped in here for so many years behind your back, treated like a lab animal, all thanks to _YOU_!!" _**_The remaining half of his flesh human face was concealed by his metal helmet. _

_Edward cringed, clenching his teeth against the weight of his words as the realization sunk in. It was_ his _entire fault. Everything would be all right it if wasn't for_ him. _His mother turned into a monster because of _him. _He got his own brother involved and now he was nothing more than an iron shell to be used in experiments. All his doings._ _His fault. All of it. _

_The vectors swiftly pulled him into the liquid ground, himself struggling to get to the surface, kicking his legs until it burned. He gurgled and choked on the liquid substance which was filling his lungs as he was dragged deeper and deeper into an even more hellish black. His attempts to escape only resulted in an array of bloody red bubbles. A dark crimson gloom of the liquid overtook him and continued to pull him into the dark oblivion as his vision become clouded and hazy under the blanket of red… _

"DAMN IT FULLMETAL, WAKE UP!!!"

Edward gasped on a pocket of air and thrust open his eyes. This wasn't the dark, unforgiving place in his mind anymore; he was lying, in actuality sitting up, in his bed at the Society. It really was just a dream.

Thick dark shadows danced along the bedroom walls revealing the shapes of several other adults in the room, one he recognized to be the Colonel by his voice. At least two guards had restrained his arms by holding them behind his back to prevent him from moving. By the look of their faces and the darkness, he silently concluded it was either extremely late or extremely early.

The misty sight rejuvenated, slowly adjusting to lack of lighting. His aching and sore body was absolutely drenched in sweat, his black sleeveless shirt sticking to his chest. His heart still felt like it was going a mile a minute and won't slow down. His broken and tready breathing was just the same. Coils of long, wet, blonde colored hair hung in his face and his blanket was hopelessly twisted around his legs.

"God, thrashing around and yelling in his sleep? I can't take much more of this." It was a doctor talking this time, an old gravely voice. In a shadowy silhouette, Ed saw the man in the white lab coat hold up a glass syringe, prodding the barrel and the blood red contents inside. The man then reached out for Ed's left arm.

"…N-No…please…" Edward felt the sharp sting of the needle bite into his forearm, but then a quickening wave of drowsiness overcame him and his body succumbed to the conditioning. He slumped backwards against the guards, letting out a soft groan before falling on the bed sheets in a heap. The world became lopsided and fuzzy and his hearing was muffled at best. It wouldn't be much longer until he passed out completely…

The old doctor faced Mustang in the darkness. Even in the inadequate light, he could tell the Colonel was frowning. "He'll be sedated for the night and probably the next morning, depending on the effect. Just…be sure to expect it in the morning."

Mustang nodded in understanding and watched as the officers and guards on duty filed out of the room, leaving him alone with his almost unconscious student. Out of regard, the Colonel unwound the blanket around Ed's legs and covered him properly. He turned to leave as well, but stopped, surprised, when he heard a soft voice.

"C-Colonel? Is that you?" Ed asked feebly.

Mustang returned to his bedside, pulling up a stool and sitting down next to his small form. He stroked Edward's hair with his hand. "You should really go back to sleep," he spoke gently.

The teenager coughed and rubbed at his dry throat. "I…I can't…" he trailed off.

The Colonel felt himself reeling back to the first time he had watched over his student, that night in the hospital when Ed was still recovering from his automail surgery…

_It was almost midnight and the eleven-year-old still had not closed his eyes. Covered with bandages and machinery, Edward withered in pain on his bed. He squeezed the linen blanket in his left fist so tightly it hurt. His body trembled and he tried to remember a time when it had hurt so badly. The heat of his fever had long since peaked. He never knew the night could be so long. _

_Ed's handler, Colonel Mustang, had stayed with him, watching over him in his agony. Mustang had been the only one who had stayed behind while everyone, even the nurses, had gone home. _

_"I-It hurts…so bad…" the boy stuttered, a rippling new pain hitching from his wired right shoulder. He struggled not to cry in front of his teacher. _

_"I know, Ed. I'm sorry," Mustang replied softly. The Colonel hated watching him suffer. "Try to get some sleep." _

_Ed moaned a bit, and fell silent. After a while, he spoke again. "Wh-When I was little, my Moth-" He stopped mid-sentence. "Uh, I mean, s-someone close to me used t-to hold my hand when I w-was scared or lonely. Th-That way, I would a-always feel protected. And m-my hand would be w-warm in the morning." He held out his hand shyly from the blanket. "Too much to ask?" _

_The Colonel widened his eyes, but then gave Edward a kind smile and grasped his small hand in his much larger one, lacing his fingers to capture the warmth. "Of course not…" _

"Colonel? Y-You still there?"

Mustang glanced up, emerging from a far away memory. "Oh, um, sorry," he muttered. He heard Ed's unsteady breathing in the shadows, the raise and fall of his chest, the unnerving expression on his face. That thing in the boy's past which he had most likely forgotten, the Colonel knew it was the only thing he could do for him now. "Y'know, they say that if you hold someone's hand when they're sleeping, they get better faster."

Edward turned his head toward Mustang, puzzled at first, but blushed a soft red. "You-You'll stay with me?" he replied.

"Yes," the Colonel grinned and leaned closer through the darkness.

"A-And you won't let go?"

"I promise," Mustang nodded.

Ed finally held up his quivering left hand as his handler gripped it against his own war-roughened hands and smiled weakly before shutting his eyes. "Thank you…"

* * *

GAH!! Summer vacation!! Yay!! I'm happy I'm now a sophomore, but it's kinda overwhelming, too. I can drive in less than a year. That's a scary thought. XD We get some really nice Parental!Royed going on here. It's so cute, a lot of fun to write. Poor Ed, (hugs). At first I intended this scene to be the start of Chapter 4 but it kind of snow balled into a time lapse and children's birthday party. It's for the best. XD The actual nightmare scene took a lot of revising, but I'm happy with the result. "Portal Edward", as I like to refer to him, is actually like a recollection of Edward's memory of "that day" which he had forgotten. He isn't a separate soul, but is like part of a larger entity. He has some consciousness and can reshape and deconstruct his body at will. He enjoys being mean to Ed and teasing him. He's a kind of a mixture of Envy, Wrath, and Road Camelot from D. Gray-Man. I'm quite fond of him. XD He will appear again later, when things take a turn for the worst…Uh, let's just say it involves a death and someone getting beaten up REALLY bad (whistles innocently). Amanda, if you're reading this, you'll know what I mean. XD

I recently was involved with helping out at my church's vacation bible school, a week long program for the little kids. I was a mentor (leading them around, helping with the activities, etc.) for the (get this) five-year-olds-going-into-kindergarten group. Karma really is a bitch. XD It was a lot of fun, though, playing around and such. What really surprised me was there was another helper my age whose name was Ed and had blonde hair. And he got jumped by the kids. A lot. Go figure. XD Oh, and I saw Pirates!3 with my friend Brendan. It's great, everyone go see it!! Hooray for Captain Sparrow!! And Will Turner, too!! XD

Almost forgot. Happy Fourth of July!! (throws confetti)


	11. A Broken Heart, Lied Too Much

THIS FANFICTION IS FAN-MADE AND IS NO WAY ASSOCIATED WITH EITHER ANIME COMPANY IN ANY WAY. ALL COPYRIGHTS GO TO THE RESPECTED OWNERS.

_**Gunslinger Alchemist: A Crossover Fanfiction**_

**"_The boy has a mechanical body, but he is still an adolescent child…"_**

**_Chapter 4: A Broken Heart in my Hands, The Truth Revealed_**

**_6. Lied Too Much_**

* * *

Edward Elric stumbled his way over to the bathroom sink, harshly slamming the door behind him and carefully watching his step not to fall on the hard tiled floor. The porcelain on the edging felt frigid in between his firmly clenched hands, his knuckles a discolored white. More precisely in his left hand. He could never feel _anything _in his right arm or his left leg for that matter. They were artificial to the world.

The alchemist caught his breath, steadying himself against the sink and wiping sweat from his brow. He sharply rotated the faucet allowing the cool water to pour out and rush over his swollen fingers. Cupping the water in his hands, he splashed his face, washing away his doubt. He wasn't tied _completely_ to the State. He wasn't their machine.

Above the sink was a standard issued vertically placed mirror, faded around the frame with age but still clear enough to see. Out of sheer curiosity, Edward took a look. The teenager in the reflection stared back. He possessed ashy pale skin which could only be obtained by lack of sunlight and being constantly indoors. His exterior was incredibly thin and unhealthy, prompting he hadn't been eating properly in months. Unkempt blonde hair had been hastily pulled back in a messy high ponytail, long bangs still enclosing his face.

The expression he displayed was hard to place, a mixture of awe and disapproval. Disapproval of himself and of his situation, of everything and of nothing. Of the blue symbol of war that he purposed adorned each day, the uniform that signified himself as part of the State Military, rank State Alchemist, Major.

And then there came an expression much more legible: absolute terror. Fumbling to reach for the spare pipe in the corner, Edward tightly grasped the end of the handle swinging it down in front of him which intensely collided with the mirror. A sharp crack was heard and Edward lost his balance, collapsing to the sleek floor tiles and letting the pipe escape his grip with a clatter. The piercing shattered glass shards, dust, and other discarded debris rained upon his disheveled form, feeling free to penetrate his yielding flesh. He began coughing violently, spewing blood in his hand.

Getting to his knees, Edward quickly twisted his gaze back to the damaged mirror. The broken, splintered glass produced a chilling image, one of a deformed young man. Blood trickling down the side of his face, the missing bits of the glass gave off the appearance of disfiguration. It was a wretched face, scarred and useless. The face that was ugly, the face of a monster.

Edward recoiled in outrage, a suitable reaction, as did his reflection. He clawed through his hair causing his scalp to prickle from the glass cutting into his skin. The State Alchemist slowly felt the blood begin to well beneath his fingers. He welcomed every ounce of the pain. Anything to keep from feeling the disgust at himself. Turning his head, he finally let go and emptied his stomach on the bathroom floor.

…

Doctor Tim Marcoh noisily tapped his pen against the log book on his office desk. As the head doctor of surgical operations and the conditioning process at the Social Welfare Society, there was a never ending chain of paperwork and overtime shifts. He was forever on-call, hardly spending time at home since he was recruited for the job. Not that he had anyone to return home to anyway. Like his friend and fellow colleague, Dr. Knox, his wife had cut off ties with him right after Ishbal.

At the moment the doctor was invoking his duties as a counselor to his "little experiment", observing the physical development and medical diagnosis in the form of counsel rehabilitation sessions. The boy sat before him now, his left bandaged hand in his lap and his cheek resting on his right hand. Edward's look, plastered on his face, was of a sarcastic scowling brat, but his misted-over golden eyes told a different story. The story of his past suffering. He hid it from everyone, no matter how obvious.

Everything seemed to be going downhill these days. Edward's attitude had drastically changed over the last few months. The kid had been having night terrors almost every other night and fevers constantly. His characteristics matched the requirements for the terrors, of course: impaired memory, passivity, self-directed anger, the ability to ignore pain, irritability, social and interpersonal difficulties, et cetera; though the doctor silently wondered if the "conditioning" was at its break-way point. Fever was part of the body's immune response to _infection_, after all.

To top it off, Edward had gone off and smashed several of the Society's windows with a long rusted pipe. It had happened in the middle of the night when he should have been sleeping. Nothing out of the ordinary had gone on before, so the guards were less cautious then usual and left him alone in the room. The kid had obviously sneaked out, bludgeoning the locked door open, and the shattered glass around him was proof enough.

Colonel Mustang had been the first one awakened by a "crashing sound". He had found Edward almost in a trancelike state, eyes with an empty appearance and the pipe raised over his head, only becoming somewhat aware of his surroundings until Mustang called his name, jogging his shoulder. Apparently the kid had a short period of amnesia, unable to recall what he was last doing or even his own name, a common side-effect.

Marcoh was impressed by the Colonel's actions. Though usually secured in his room, Edward was potentially dangerous just sleepwalking in that state of consciousness. Then again, he was always potentially dangerous. Mustang had been lucky, getting away with only a minor abrasion on his arm from a slight blow from the pipe. Even if he was the kid's handler, approaching Fullmetal in that state could easily mean death. The conditioning was getting too powerful to control.

Edward yawned suddenly, covering his mouth with his free hand. "Is this going to take too long? Why do these sessions have to be so early in the morning?"

_"Rude as ever, are you kid?"_ Marcoh thought, flipping to a new page in the log book and writing down his observations. "It's the afternoon, Edward," he sighed aloud.

The alchemist grumbled. "I wouldn't sleep so late if you guys would stop those damn auto-mail maintenance tests. So considerate of you to do it so _late_," he shot back, glaring.

_"No mental recollection of the past nights and substituted memories? That's a relief." _The doctor quickly wrote down a few notes. "To answer your first question, no, it won't take too long. Have you been having any upset stomachs or nausea lately? Any unnecessary joint pains or blackouts?"

"No," Edward said, irritated. "Why the hell do you do this, anyway?"

"The higher-ups have been thinking about taking you off duty for a while," Marcoh answered plainly. He could have sworn he saw the boy squirm a bit in the corner of his eye.

Edward widened his eyes and sat up straight in his chair, hands clenched on his shaking knees. "Off duty?! But-But I'm alright, really!!"

The doctor forcibly threw an open thick manila folder across the desk, spreading out photos and the paperwork of the shattered windows and miscellaneous structural damage from other night. "Clearly you're not."

"Y-You can't do that, right?!" The young teen gulped back his settling fear.

"It's not my decision to place," Marcoh shook his head. "Think of this as an evaluation."

Edward sat stunned in silence, noticeably defeated, unable to come up with anything to say as the old doctor continued to write. _"I'm not lying, I swear," _he whispered under his breath._ "Please let me still be useful…" _

The scene playing before Roy Mustang wasn't one he particularly enjoyed. He watched his student surrounded by white walls through the one-way glass of the session room, the Colonel's arms crossed in a stern expressionless manner. There were dark blemishes around his eyes, results from fatigue and lack of sleep. His right wrist was badly fractured, wrapped tightly in a gauze bandage. _"Why the hell does he look so much like her?" _

Maes Hughes nudged his friend's shoulder from behind him with a coffee cup. "Rough night?" he questioned, sipping the brewed drink, already knowing the answer.

Mustang grunted softly in response, "Uh huh."

The Lt. Colonel glanced down at Mustang's wrist. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." The Colonel examined his arm, pulling back his sleeve. "The bruising wasn't as bad as I thought. Bones heal quick; I should more or less be back to normal in a matter of weeks."

"It wasn't your fault, Roy."

"That's what I'd _want_ to think-"

"You training him has nothing to do with it. It's _neither_ your fault, nor his." Hughes's eyes hidden behind his glasses gave Mustang an almost embittered look as if the subject was a difficult burden to carry, though he continued on with an unwavering tone. "The conditioning is a highly powerful substance. It's like it has a mind its own. Once it enters the human bloodstream it never completely leaves." He blinked, facing the cup. "Never."

As the Lt. Colonel took another long sip, Mustang stared confused at Hughes's words. "Wait a minute, how do you know _that_ much about the conditioning? Only the doctors and head higher-ups even have an idea of its existence," the Colonel said cautiously. "Were you, in the past-?"

Hughes smiled in reply. It was a pained smile, one that seemed to say he understood Mustang's anguish.

The Colonel thought back to last night's escapades, the crash, the discovery of the broken windows, the glass flying in all directions…

Hughes struggled with his next sentence, "You think the conditioning is…" He paused, but quickly resumed. "…taking over again?"

Mustang turned his head, eyes widening.

"The last time he was like this, it was his first major dosage."

The Colonel's eyes closed and in his mind replayed the incidence of the lost innocence, of the blood and carnage, of the laughs and the tears, of the beginning of the end…

* * *

I finally got a subchapter out ahead of schedule!! Yay, me!! Geez, lots of angst in this one…That's what makes it so hard to categorize this fic. XD I stand by it, though: it's a Drama/Tragedy. Poor Ed's got such a painful past. BIG spoiler for Hughes in this one (if you get it that is). XD The title to this subchapter comes from a line from one of my favorite Three Days Grace songs, "On My Own" which I listened to constantly while writing the bathroom scene. If you're wondering, yes, the Society has been generous enough to provide Ed with his own bathroom. It's not too far from his room and Ed has his own key for privacy. That scene is actually based on a part in the Serial Experiment Lain PS2 game (which I don't own but saw on Youtube) in which Lain stands in front of a bathroom mirror and smashes it with a mop, then cuts her neck with the glass.

Nowadays my story has started to copy a LOT from others. The meeting with Winry where she hugs Ed and says she doesn't care about what he looks like was taken from a flashback of Lucy and her friend from the OVA of Elfen Lied. The shooting of Winry at the hotel was taken from the incident with Rico and Emilio in Gunslinger Girl, episode 3 (which I watched at least twice to get it accurate). The flashback dialogue before Ed wakes up from going unconscious in Chapter 3 about the "birthday present" was based on the opening scene of Fullmetal Alchemist episode 3. If nobody got the order of the kids' lines, it was Winry, Al, Winry, Ed, Al. The first shooting practice with Ed and Mustang is based on Angelica's and Marco's in the Gunslinger Girl manga. The scene where Ed wakes up and first sees Mustang is based on the scene in the Gunslinger Girl anime when Henrietta wakes up. The "holding my hand" part in the last subchapter was actually along the same lines as Syaoran's flashback of when Sakura is sick from the second volume of the Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles (one of my favorite scenes, too!!). And of course, Elicia's birthday party was based on the one Winry was invited to in the Fullmetal Alchemist anime and manga. And the list goes on…I'm starting to feel I'm not original at all. XD Well, the revealing of the actual plot will be pretty good, so please stay tuned!! Get ready for some real explanations in flashback next time!! XD

Harry Potter 5 is AWESOME!!! Best one, in my opinion!!! XD Oh, my Daniel Radcliffe… (high pitched fangirl squeal) I LOVE YOU!!! Aggggh, I can't wait for the last HP book!!


	12. A Broken Heart, A Memory of Sanity

THIS FANFICTION IS FAN-MADE AND IS NO WAY ASSOCIATED WITH EITHER ANIME COMPANY IN ANY WAY. ALL COPYRIGHTS GO TO THE RESPECTED OWNERS.

_**Gunslinger Alchemist: A Crossover Fanfiction**_

**"_The boy has a mechanical body, but he is still an adolescent child…"_**

**_Chapter 4: A Broken Heart in my Hands, The Truth Revealed_**

**_VII. A Memory of Sanity and Deception, Part I_**

* * *

_The day Edward first stood up and walked completely on his own was perhaps a miracle in itself. It began on a particularly slow evening, the end of the day, actually; not much progress recorded and very little results had been made. _

_The doctors were getting impatient; the pervious boy, a full year older, had advanced, however unwillingly, twice as fast in both auto-mail and alchemy with a hindering reluctance which Edward, under newly developed sedatives and conditioning brainwashing, therefore lacked. It should have been roughly equal in progression, despite the Ishbalan boy only needing his right arm replaced, which was reported to have been amputated by himself, but clearly this wasn't the case. _

_Something was unmistakably familiar about this new boy to his preceder, something having to do with endurance. Receiving the rebound effects of human transmutation, then sacrificing another limb for a flawed soul attachment, living to tell the tale wasn't an everyday feat, and overcoming the pain was another thing entirely. Edward was characteristically strong; there was certainly no doubt about that, but uncanny similarities in both strength and attitude were too much of a coincidence for the common denominator to blame to be in their bloodstream, namely the conditioning. _

_Edward was resting at the time in his hospital room, currently being tended by a nurse with his newly administered antipyretic medication which lessened his fevers. He seemed less alert than usual: sitting up in bed and rather downcast with his left hand balled into a fist around the blanket, a rare occurrence these days. The eleven-year-old barely talked and anything he might say could scarcely be heard, his words a soft mutter. His eyes hovered up only when his handler had come to check on him, following his movements from the time he entered to his departure. _

_Mustang had just left room, preparing to leave for the day. He'd stopped by only for a short visit this time, unlike the past few weeks. Normally he would have stayed with Edward until the kid fell asleep, but this time the Colonel didn't stick around that long. To be honest, Mustang wasn't having the greatest time with his piling paperwork and, quite frankly, life in general. He still saw Riza in his dreams _months_ after the incident; his deceased infant also haunted him frequently. _

_That kid, Edward, was getting to him, too. Mustang couldn't stand watching him suffer painfully so much and so often. Learning to stand again with help from the rehab support team took what little energy the boy had left by the end of the day, and the routinely conditioning shots were nearly unbearable to witness as he squirmed away from the tip of the needle as is pierced his skin. The Colonel didn't want to see anymore of it, at least not until he could take a short break from the cycle. All he really wanted to do was crawl into bed and wait for this nightmare to end. _

_Hughes clasped his shoulder from behind him as he descended down the hall. Mustang's subordinate always seemed strangely hopeful in Edward's progression, making up for the both of them. He cheerfully invited his friend to a drink after the two checked out after unveiling a new roll of photographs of his daughter and wife. _

_The Colonel, annoyed, pushed the photos anyway. But before he could reply, he heard a high-pitched scream, a loud crash of a toppling gurney, and the solid crunch of broken glass. It came from the room he just visited, Edward's room. _

"_D-Don't leave me…" _

_He turned around. His student faced the teacher, _standing upright_ by himself, sweat dampening his cheeks. The kid was leaning his auto-mail forearm against the hallway wall, his left fiercely gripping the throbbing pain in his right side. His body slumped, the auto-mail leg tensed and quivered, and he panted heavily to straighten his posture. Edward smiled weakly. _

_Mustang at the moment was at a loss for words. His eyes bulged; he took a step forward to approach him but forced himself to hold back. He knelt and held out his arms. _

_Edward knocked himself off the wall; he tightened the grip on his stomach, breathed deeply, and moved his left leg forward. The right leg followed slackly behind in an almost shuffle, but he did indeed move toward his handler. _

_At this point, all surrounding employees had stopped whatever they were doing, spellbound in the least, to look up and stare at the wonder of the prosthetics. There was an absolute silence, like an audience watching an unimaginable performance in order to see what would happen next, mouths agape, hearts pounding, none more worried than the handler. The kid was certainly putting on one hell of a show. _

_He took several more of his disoriented steps, working up his strength to actually lift his right leg. The kid winced and gritted his teeth, forcing it to hover above the ground, and brought it down in front of him. He paused only a moment to lean back on the wall, gasping, before continuing his short journey. _

_It took him exactly eight point twenty-eight minutes to finally reach the Colonel, collapsing from complete exhaustion in his arms, as the research team later calculated but to Mustang it seemed an eternity. A roar of applause filled the hospital, doctors and nurses gathering around the child to give him pats on the back or to ruffle his hair. Words of praise came flooding from all directions, but only two among the rest didn't seem to hear them. Edward drowsily grabbed a hold of Mustang's sleeve in his small fist, closed his eyes, and fell asleep._

…

_It wasn't completely perceivable when Edward first became aware of the conditioning treatments but the incident which spiraled from its discovering to the open was duly noted, transcribed and memorized for all head doctors to remember. This was a turning point to them, unlike the Colonel who realized only then of the full extent of the hardships the two of them would face. _

_The boy's hair had grown a considerable length in that time, once short, now brushing against his small shoulders. He was of adequate physical condition apart from his lack of an arm and leg which was fixed with auto-mail in a mere five months, though still hinting at signs of dysfunction._

_That particular day the handler, Roy Mustang, had the day off. It wouldn't have gone through anyway with him present. He would have certainly objected to it, demanding an explanation, and that wasn't something the Society heads were comfortable with sharing at the moment. Anyone who got too close to the truth had to be erased, and the Civil War-hero was still much too important to get involved in things that weren't his concern so early in the process. The Lt. Colonel also was given even stricter Society to stay off the company's surrounding grounds, knowing that by his protective attitude alone he would be just as much a hassle as his superior. The Ishbalan didn't live to foresee this experiment, so Hughes wouldn't suspect a thing. _

_The plan of action was simple: allow the conditioning treatments to speak for themselves…_

* * *

Hey guys, it's been a while! I know what you're thinking: _"It's been a month and this is all you've written?!!"_…I'm sorry…I've enjoyed my vacation, thus far until the end of it, as you might tell from the lack of updates…XD Arrgh, summer went by way too fast!!! The first week of school is over already…The first day I had Maximum The Hormone's "WHAT'S UP, PEOPLE?" stuck in my head. That's not good. That's really not good…

Again "the boy from Ishbal" is mentioned. (yes, he actually has a name, as does his little sister, and no, I am not going to tell their names for a while!! XD) Keep a lookout for him and Hughes's connection to him: Even dead, he plays a major role in the revealing of the true plot of the Society in the final Chapter as Edward will soon discover (at least I hope to be able to write this far…XD). He is a very interesting, cool, strong-willed character who I had the pleasure to flesh out and develop. I'm so happy I created him!! His description (both he and his sister's) will be revealed soon (I hope) and I plan to scan a picture of them. EDIT: A link to a picture of them is in my Profile.

Oh, be sure to check out my other fic, The Morning After, the first chapter of which I just posted recently. It's got a lot of good symbolism (flowers and colors and such) and foreshadowing to the Fullmetal movie! (shameless-plug, aren't I? XD)


	13. A Broken Heart, Notes of a Tortured Soul

THIS FANFICTION IS FAN-MADE AND IS NO WAY ASSOCIATED WITH EITHER ANIME COMPANY IN ANY WAY. ALL COPYRIGHTS GO TO THE RESPECTED OWNERS.

_**Gunslinger Alchemist: A Crossover Fanfiction**_

"_**The boy has a mechanical body, but he is still an adolescent child…"**_

_**Chapter 4: A Broken Heart in my Hands, The Truth Revealed**_

_**VIII. Notes of a Tortured Soul**_

* * *

Edward buttoned his shirt top to bottom as a chill ran down his body. He sneezed loudly and wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

"You're not getting a cold, are you? Looks like someone's talking about you, then!"

"Probably that damn Colonel." He shivered irritably toward white-coated nurse. "It's freezing in here."

"The cold temperature is better for storing the medicine, sweetie; you know that, don't you?" the redhead wrapped the stethoscope around her shoulders. "I'd have thought you'd be used to it by now." She giggled softly to herself as she scribbled something on her clipboard.

The alchemist suppressed a comment with utmost difficultly. This mere nurse was as quick to pick verbal fights as he was and just as sharp-witted. It would be pointless and tiring to object and he didn't have the durability to prolong it or even end it for that matter. He was always as stubborn as to have the last word, but try as he might, he knew he couldn't win.

Despite tendencies to rant and her obsessive personality, Miss Maria Collins was the closest of the laboratory staff to him and the one he got along best with on most occasions. She was very pretty, in her mid twenty's, with very long orange-colored hair and small square cut glasses that she frequently adjusted. Her attire was of the standard medical staff: a long white lab coat and blouse with a short black skirt. Collins was the only female on the staff but had the honor of working along side Dr. Marcoh in diagnosis and development, often taking his place for doing status checks because of the close cooperation needed. It was her job to calculate the how much of the conditioning should be administered and its effect on the bodily functions, especially the important organs. Depending on what she felt at the time, Collins could decide if the situation would be better off with Edward having minimal conditioning and more or less normal functions to being completely drugged. In more ways than one, this nurse had far more power over him than even the Colonel. "Your biological and physical statistics have been improving over the last few weeks," she said over the clipboard. "The medication is, too." She sighed longingly. "Amazing stuff, the human body, isn't it?"

Edward never really quite understood why none of Society staff would never call the "medicine" by its true name, or even address it as a drug in his presence. He did hid best to follow suit. "My body's not that special," he shrugged.

"What do you mean, 'not that special?!'" the nurse retorted, giving the alchemist a menacing look. "It's simply _incredible_ how your body functions maintain so perfectly even withstanding foreign substances, like mechanical nerves, and all the while the upholding overall structure and endurance with the enhancement medicine; extraordinary, isn't it?" She flicked him in the chest with her pointer finger. "Our medication is injected directly into your blood which is carried throughout your body, strengthening every bit of you," the nurse grinned. "Fascinating organ, right?"

Edward lifted a finely tuned brow, bitterly rubbing the bruise that had developed. "What you going on about?"

"It's fascinating how it operates, how it never stops working, its procedures," Collins mused, "especially yours." She leaned in close enough to his face that he could smell the bitter-sweetness of her lavender perfume. "You could say hones the medicine, kind of like a storage system." She chuckled softly to herself. "Seeing a living heart beat is such a beautiful experience, even in researching dissected animals, it's just the same." Edward could have sworn there were sparkles dancing in her eyes by her excited manner. "It makes me want to open you up and see what's inside!" The nurse clasped Edward's hand and held up a shining scalpel, a huge smile across her face. She was dead serious.

Edward backed into his seat, twitching slightly. "N-No way in hell," he answered shakily, retracting his hand.

Collins frowned glumly, pocketing the scalpel, and sulked. "Awww, that's too bad," She turned her back away from him, writing up the prescription form in a red-colored pencil and lifting it at an angle which could not be seen or read. "You were so much fun to play with."

"Play with?! This is my _life _you're talking about!" Edward yelled angrily. "Are you always this upfront with your experiments?!"

The nurse whirled around giving him an almost sympathetic look. "Oh, I'm not going to kill you or anything like that," she replied in an indifferent tone. "You're too important to us right now." She gazed wistfully toward an anatomy chart hanging on the wall. "Our understanding of ourselves is still quite limited, so the more you get inside, a hands-on experience you might say, the more you know. It's my goal to finalize the medicine and make medical knowledge even more advanced!" she grinned warmly.

"Getting inside, huh?"

"_With technology and machinery these days, they can finally make people who've given up walk and live normal lives again! Using my mechanic and auto-mail skills, I want to be able to give that hope to others!"_

The alchemist couldn't help but smile in his thought of the similarities. "Heh, you sound like someone I know."

"Do I, now? Who? A _girlfriend_, perhaps?"

Edward reeled forward. "Sh-She's not my girlfriend!!" he yelled, his face bright red.

"Aha! It is a girl! How cute!!" she laughed.

"Yeah, right, Collins."

"Oh, by the way," Collins pulled the teenager suddenly into a close hug, Edward's face shoved into the front of her blouse. He had become quite a frequent victim of strangulation these days, he had noticed. "Didn't I ask you to call me Maria?" she exclaimed squeezing him tighter. Edward could have sworn he heard a crack of bones. In his luck, a loud knock came from the closed door, interrupting the nurse's choking embrace. "Come in!" she called out loosening her grip by only a bit. Seizing the opportunity Edward lifted his head taking a gulp of air.

Colonel Mustang turned the handle, opening the door and walking into the strange scene raising a brow. "Collins, what the hell are you doing?" he asked monotonously, flicking his gaze at his student.

"Nothing," the nurse answered normally her hold on Edward still firm as he desperately tried to wriggle away.

"I assume you have the prescription sheet?"

"That, I do; but you know it's for the Brigadier General's confirmation not yours. I need to bring it over later."

"I have a meeting with him right now, so I can give it to him there. It'll save you the trouble." He showed her proof of his statement in the form of summoning slip; Michael Mount's signature at the bottom. All the while the Colonel's eyes never left the spot in which he stared.

"Ah, thank you sweetie! That's really nice of you, Colonel. Now where're my notes?" In a swift almost poetic motion, Collins released her grip on Edward, dropping him to the floor in a crumpled heap, and retrieved the clipboard which was lying on the floor. She ripped of a very descriptive document and started to hand it off to Mustang. Before he could take it, she snatched it away holding it from his reach. "So what's this meeting about?" she asked curiously, seemingly oblivious to the fifteen-year-old coughing, recovering from the almost-chokehold and pulling himself upwards to stand.

Mustang could never put his guard down or his full trust in this woman. Just her being in the inner circle of the staff members made him uneasy, and there was the fact that she knew much more than she let on. She looked harmless but in reality she was anything but. "Briefing, mostly for the next mission-"

"But if it's directly from the Brigadier General then it must be a very important case," Collins interrupted thoughtfully. "It's not common for a high ranked official to arrange sittings like that. It will most surely involve my prescription, you can be sure of that."

"You mean that this won't be any normal circumstance case?"

"Life or death, you might say." Her tone was serious and urgent, a vast difference from but a moment ago.

The Colonel's expression darkened and became as hard as stone at her words. "I suppose you could say that."

"In many ways," she gestured to Edward again in an odd sort of glance, grinning. "You're attending the meeting too Ed, correct?"

"Huh? I am?" he turned to face his handler who nodded stiffly. Edward seemed a bit sickened by the thought. The two adults had a good understanding of how much he hated Brigadier General Mount. Edward usually couldn't stand talking, even looking at him, much less a private sitting. But he suddenly relaxed as if he had remembered something crucial of the occasion. "Oh, that's good," he responded a little slowly, out of sorts. "I've actually been meaning to ask him something."

"Ask him something?" Mustang said, puzzled.

"Uh huh," the teenager answered.

Collins blinked, surprised at Edward's inquiry. "Mount is very strict. I doubt he'll even _listen_ unless he's interested," she sighed wearily.

Edward grimaced. _"She-She says everything so frankly!!" _he thought.

"Well, I shouldn't keep you too long." Collins leaned over and kissed Edward on the forehead causing his cheeks to flush a slight pink. "Good luck, sweetie. I hope everything goes okay." She straightened up and smiled.

"Um, thanks," Edward mumbled.

"Good day then, Collins." Mustang gripped Edward's shoulder steering, almost pushing, him toward the door himself following closely behind. It was so plainly obvious that he had no intention of staying longer than need be.

"Until next time, Colonel?" Collins called after him in her usual chipper manner just before he shut the door behind him.

Mustang stopped but didn't speak. He gave her a quiet, disapproving, almost angry stare, his eyes burning, and retreated from her sight, his fingers still tightly enclosed.

Little less than a minute later, still standing at of the closed door, Edward broke free from Mustang and stepped back in front of the man, his shoulder throbbing. The Colonel's face was just as hard as it was back in the examination room, his fists clenched so tight Edward thought he might bleed. "G-Geez, Colonel, what's with you all of a sudden?"

"What?" Mustang glanced back to Edward. His expression loosened instantly. "Oh, it's nothing for you to worry about." He turned to leave down the hallway.

Edward followed. "Hm, what's with women?" he joked. "They're so violent."

Mustang grinned and shook his head, ruffling his student's hair.

"_Colonel, if I've told you once I've told you a thousand times, GET BACK TO WORK!!"_

"You have no idea…"

Maria pouted as she was left alone in the small white room. The Flame/Fullmetal pair was so much fun to toy around with, anyway. It was worth the Colonel's distaste. She knew Mustang had such a heavy disposition to her in particular; she couldn't blame him for that. To him, she was the bad guy in this situation no matter what. She had gotten used to the cold shoulder, had to, many years ago in Ishbal where she was an Amestrian surgeon on the battlefields. It came with the job. And there was that incident about the conditioning four years ago…

She leaned back and collapsed against the wall her hands shaking, but her eyes cold and firm. _"It'll maintain normal functions, but not for long…"_

* * *

First off, I'd like to sincerely apologize for the serious lack of updates. I've been having a hard time keeping up with posting of new chapters monthly…School sucks right now, I'm sooo sorry!!! Anyhoo, back to the fic…

Miss Maria Collins…is another important OC. XD If you've been keeping track, she's the fourth so far, though there aren't too many. I usually try limit the OCs I make in fanfictions. The name "Maria" is NOT taken from Maria Ross from FMA (I _hated_ her in the anime, always sticking her nose in private business) but is actually my mother's name. She is a redheaded heart nurse in real life, and oddly enough, her love of seeing a live beating heart is very true XD. Collins is also based on several others including Rachel from the DS game Hotel Dusk, Winry, and Hudson from the fanfiction Experiment A by Selim. Maria's character design was actually my image of Hudson, and in a way this is my fic's version of her (very different though, I'm sooo sorry Selim-sama!!)

So did everyone get the news? As of last week, Death Note will be shown on Adult Swim!! YAYNESS!!! XD I caught the news of it last night before they aired the second episode (I already saw the subbed first episode, so lucky break), I was so happy I could cry. BTW, Happy Halloween!!!


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